


See the Sunrise

by anime_demigod



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bear Hybrid Choi Jongho, Cat Hybrid Kang Yeosang, Crow Hybrid Park Seonghwa, Dog Hybrid Jeong Yunho, Dog Hybrid Jung Wooyoung, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Fox Hybrid Choi San, Gen, Hybrid Ateez, Hybrids, Kim Hongjoong-centric, M/M, Multi, OT8, Rabbit Hybrid Song Mingi, human hongjoong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28606533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anime_demigod/pseuds/anime_demigod
Summary: Hongjoong's spent a good majority of his life alone on his family farm. Sure, the work is hard, grueling, and tedious. But it's also rewarding and fulfilling. He doesn't have time to ponder on his loneliness, not at all! He doesn't need help around the farm and he hasn't bothered to talk to anybody outside of necessity.Until one day, the motion sensor on his barn goes off and his life dramatically changes, for better or worse.(Human Hongjoong finds and takes in the rest of hybrids ATEEZ)
Relationships: ATEEZ Ensemble & Everyone, Choi Jongho/Kim Hongjoong, Choi San/Kim Hongjoong, Jeong Yunho/Kim Hongjoong, Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang, Jung Wooyoung/Kim Hongjoong, Kang Yeosang/Kim Hongjoong, Kim Hongjoong/Everyone, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa, Kim Hongjoong/Song Mingi
Comments: 84
Kudos: 244





	1. The Golden Dog Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, yet another ateez fic that I've spontaneously written. After scrounging for a hybrid au that wasn't made solely for smut, I decided to write one myself. Please, enjoy.

_It is our promise_

_No one take you down_

_Don’t worry, I`ll be there_

_Shining like a star_

_-ATEEZ “Promise”_

  
  


Late summer means both harvest season and monsoon season. The green waves of crops stretch out on three sides of Hongjoong’s square of land, ripe and ready for profit. The sun dips down, hiding behind an onslaught of heavy clouds. The sky weeps for the end of summer, darkening from sweet orange to deep indigo. Hongjoong sits in his mother’s rocking chair on the front porch, iced tea in hand, and basks in the thick smell of rain. The automatic lights near his front door and across the gravel driveway near the barn flare to life, exposing little toads that hop into the safety of the tall grass. 

Hongjoong sighs in contentment, shaking the half-melted ice in his glass. Sweat sticks to the back of his neck and clumps the azure strands of his hair. After a long day gathering tomatoes and melons, he’s confident in his sale tomorrow. He won’t have to worry about the bills for a few weeks if everything goes right. He tips back, the wooden legs creaking under his weight, enjoying the simple feeling. Time is thick like the air, dripping past Hongjoong like honey until it falls fast and hard with the rain. A wave of exhaustion pulls him further down into his chair as downpour ricochets off the edge of the porch and onto his toes. Time for bed.

He lays sprawled for a second longer, enjoying the cooler air. When the hard seat starts digging into his lower back, he groans, righting his posture and cracking his spine. He shivers for a second, the drop in temperature and wet air sending goosebumps up and down his skin. Just as his hand lands on the handle of his screen door, there’s a bright flash out of the corner of his eye.

It’s his motion sensor light on the far end of the barn.

He frowns, debating whether to check it out or not. Usually, it’s a stray raccoon or sometimes even the wind blowing something big enough to trigger the sensor. But what if it’s a coyote? He groans at the thought, dreading the idea of a predator getting close to his chickens when he’s around. The light switches off, the timer expiring with lack of movement. Hongjoong takes it as his cue to ignore it and swings open the screen door. He pushes open the front door just as the white light wakes up again, screaming for his attention.

Whatever it is, it’s still there.

Hongjoong thunks his forehead against the doorframe. Making up his mind, he sets his empty iced tea glass on the nearest table inside and pulls on some sandals. He’s so tired. Whatever animal that interrupted his plan to sleep is going to pay for it. Dearly.

He trudges down the steps, not caring when he’s instantly soaked or when the screen door bangs shut behind him. Maybe that would be enough to scare it away. He kicks at the gravel as he walks, stubbing his toe once on a particularly large pebble. Rounding the side of his red barn, he checks the surrounding field for any animals. But with the heavy rain and harsh lighting, he can’t see past the first few rows.

His chickens better be alright. He just got three new hens last week; he can’t afford for even one to die just yet. As far as he knows, they’re all safe and sound inside, but there’s a little door into the chicken coop from the outside of the barn that would be easy for coyotes to get into. Of course, the animal would have to get into the closed-off pen first.

Hongjoong blinks water out of his eyes, squinting through the chicken wire into the closed-off land. Nothing. So what set off the light twice? Was it a raccoon after all? Was it a stray chicken not getting the memo of sunset? He fidgets in place, fingers tracing the wire. Should he check around just to be sure? His aching bones say no, but his mind says yes. He sighs, dragging his feet as he makes his way to the other side of the pen and subsequently the back of his barn. 

He shivers again, this time with slight fear instead of the cold rain. Hongjoong doesn’t usually hang around outside at night, since he lives alone. He’s really risking it for some goddamn chickens. Those eggs better taste amazing in the morning. He thinks he sees something along the wall, but once again, the light doesn’t reach far enough for him to tell. He inches closer, biting his lip.

“Hey!”

He almost jumps at his own voice bouncing off the painted red wood and echoing into the fields. He swears he sees the black smudge in the dark flinch. It’s definitely too big for a coyote or raccoon. Shit.

He steps even closer. The thing solidifies as his eyes adjust to the darkness. “Stay away from my chickens!”

He doesn’t expect the low growl in return. Hongjoong stifles a yelp, foot splashing in a puddle. Do coyotes sound like that? Do wolves? He gulps, standing his ground and leaning even more.

“Whatever or whoever you are, please get off my property!” He tries to yell as assertive-yet-still-polite as possible. The thing growls again, dark grating that permeates the humidity and threatens Hongjoong. He swallows again, running a shaky hand through his hair. He tugs at the ends, trying to figure out what to do. He’s read that if he stays dominant and tries to out-scare things like coyotes, foxes, and bears, they’ll go away, right? Is he supposed to stand or keep moving? He hears the growl again and hastily makes up his mind, dropping his hands and assuming the most authoritative stance he can.

“I won’t tell you again!” He yells, shuffling forward. The growl bursts into a bark. The shadow moves swiftly.

Hongjoong realizes he’s made a grave mistake.

Large hands reach out of the darkness, latching onto Hongjoong’s wrists and wrenching them away from his body. He abruptly loses his balance, wailing when his head cracks dully against waterlogged grass. The body on top of him is heavy and much, _much_ bigger than he thought. He struggles to open his eyes under the rain and darkness, squinting up into an aggressive and entirely too human face. Wild eyes glare back, accompanied by a grimace filled with slightly too sharp teeth. The growls have increased tenfold, deafening Hongjoong’s ears as the other intimidatingly leans in. This isn’t an ordinary coyote or wolf.

This is a hybrid.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Hongjoong cries, shrinking from those teeth. He tries to shield his face with his hands but they’re pinned. He can barely turn his face away, breaths coming in short, stuttered bursts. Oh god. This is how he dies. He should’ve just ignored the light and stayed inside. Hongjoong screws his eyes shut, fearing the worst.

He subconsciously feels the hybrid pause. The other leans in, making Hongjoong gasp and gnaw at his lip in apprehension. What feels like his nose grazes the shell of Hongjoong’s ear and down the side of his neck. The vice grip around his wrists slacken and the other pulls back.

“I’m… sorry.”

Hongjoong coughs in shock, automatically pulling his wrists away and wrestling the other off of him. The hybrid hangs his head, letting himself be shoved away. Hongjoong scuttles back a few paces, breathing heavily with a hand over his heart.

“What the fuck?”

The hybrid lifts his gaze and Hongjoong notices a pair of floppy golden ears on his head. Definitely a dog hybrid.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Are you… hurt?” He asks again.

“Am I _hurt_ ?” Hongjoong laughs incredulously. It devolves into a coughing fit. “Am- am I hurt? What do you _think_?”

The hybrid shrinks in on himself and Hongjoong immediately feels bad. “I mean, I am but it’s nothing big,” he assuages, massaging the back of his skull. “I- what are you doing here? Why did you attack me if you’re sorry?”

“I panicked! I’m trying to find shelter in this rain and all of the sudden this human starts yelling at me. I didn’t know what to do and my instincts took over!” The other blurts, tail sagging. He wrings his hands together, dark eyes flitting between Hongjoong and the ground. “Please don’t take me to the pound,” he adds in a pitiful tone.

The human frowns. That didn’t even cross his mind but the words are a wave of reality. A stray hybrid that just attacked him is now hiding behind his barn in the rain. The poor thing must be so cold and tired, even more so than him. He bites his lip, already giving in despite his mind screaming at him to run away.

Hongjoong exhales harshly, unintentionally spooking the other as he pulls himself off the muddied grass and uselessly brushes off his dirty knees. He holds his palms up, attempting to look as non-threatening as possible.

“I promise I won’t take you to the pound. But you owe me an explanation,” he starts slowly. “I’m going to go inside my house. You’re welcome to follow me. I’ll make some tea or something to warm us up.”

Hongjoong waits until the other nods his head before he turns and heads back. The dog hybrid slinks behind out of the corner of his eye. He gnaws at his bottom lip as they scurry through the heavy rain, running through the possibilities of the next few hours. He holds the creaking screen door open for the other, beckoning the shy boy with one hand to enter.

“Please, come in. It’s no use staying out in this weather,” he tries. The other scratches at his dripping ears, hesitating, but quickly ducks into the dry house. Hongjoong carefully closes the door behind him, latching it before shutting the front door as well.

“So you’re not going after my chickens, then?” Hongjoong tries to joke, kicking off his shoes and running a hand through his damp hair. He turns just as the hybrid shakes his entire body, flinging mud and water everywhere like a… well, like a _dog_. When he finishes his hair and tail are significantly more puffed up, dry, and lighter-colored. At Hongjoong’s splutter, he freezes, wide-eyed as if to gauge the human’s reaction.

“Oh no, I’m sorry it was a force of habit! I didn’t mean to get water everywhere…” his voice peters out. He winces when Hongjoong chuckles.

“Ugh, it’s no big deal. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tracked mud in here. I’ll clean this up later.” Hongjoong walks past the man into his kitchen, trying to ignore how much taller he is. He shivers. The other would have no problem attacking him if he really wanted to. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem the type, especially with all his fervent apologies.

“So?” He asks, pulling out a kettle and filling it with water. When he gets no response even after setting it on the stove and starting it, Hongjoong looks back. The hybrid stands on his welcome mat in the middle of his front room, appearing lost with his head tilted. “You didn’t answer my question. You’re not going after my chickens?”

The boy shakes his head vehemently. “No, I swear! All I was looking for is shelter. I thought your barn would have enough roof. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten or attack you or even trespass.” His words become slightly louder and faster. “Please don’t take me back to the pound—”

“Woah, woah,” Hongjoong laughs in disbelief. “No worries. Gosh, I don’t mind too horribly. You just surprised me, that’s all. I mean, I do have a slight head injury…” He rubs the growing bruise hidden under cobalt hair.

“I’m sorry!”

Hongjoong holds up a hand, scrounging through his cabinets for two mugs. “I get it. Water under the bridge. You’re fine. Actually, you’re lucky it was my farm you came across and not my neighbor’s. Some of them are pretty mean and probably shoot on sight.” He glances over and catches the other’s face pale as he crosses his arms protectively. Oops. Maybe he went too far. The human sets out two mugs on his counter. After a few seconds of contemplative silence, he turns towards the other.

“Can I at least get a name?” He asks politely.

The hybrid startles like he’d drifted away in thought in those short seconds.

“Uh, Yunho. My name is Yunho,” he responds timidly.

“Nice to meet you, Yunho. I’m Hongjoong,” he says, smiling broadly. The hybrid returns his smile slightly, honey-colored ears lifting. “Well, Yunho, you’re welcome to come in and sit, you know. Don’t worry about tracking mud, I’ve already done it plenty myself.”

Hongjoong watches Yunho slowly make his way to the wooden table in his kitchen, pull out a chair, and perch on the edge. He smiles softly at the over-politeness of his actions.

“Is there a particular tea that you prefer?” He continues, pawing through his collection on the top shelf. “I have all kinds, especially fruit tea since it’s in season. Or perhaps you’d like something soothing like chamomile?”

“I actually have never had tea, so you don’t have to give me anything,” Yunho admits. Hongjoong’s jaw drops in exaggerated shock.

“Never had tea?!” He exclaims, even bringing his wrist to his forehead. The other cracks a smile at his theatrics. “Why, you’re missing out! I insist now, you must try some.”

“Well, if you must,” Yunho’s sharp teeth bite at his bottom lip. “Whatever is your favorite is fine.”

“Chai tea it is, then.” He fishes out the appropriate bags and places them in the empty mugs. As if on cue, the kettle whistles, making the hybrid flinch. Hongjoong rushes to turn off the stove and remove the kettle. He carefully pours the hot water into each of the mugs and sets the kettle in his sink to wash later. Hongjoong gingerly picks up the mugs with both hands and carries them over to the table, sliding into a seat adjacent. The ceramic clinks against solid wood as he slides one to Yunho, who watches him warily.

“Thank you,” he iterates softly, wrapping long fingers around the warm mug. He brings it close, breathing in the steam, and Hongjoong can see the moment he relaxes.

“Don’t drink it just yet, you might burn yourself,” he advises. The other nods, continuing to hold the rim under his chin.

“Are you… willing to tell me why you were hiding out behind my barn?” Hongjoong asks, fumbling when the other locks up again. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me anything, but I would like to know _how_ I can help you.”

Yunho sighs, his floppy ears drooping. Hongjoong scrutinizes the hybrid’s appearance under better lighting. He’s tall, handsome, and too nice to be scrounging for cover. Sure, the other’s sandy hair is matted with mud and his clothes are plain and stained, but his face is too handsome and he bears no scratches or signs of abuse. He wears the stiff gray shirt and trousers that are provided at the local animal shelter and seems more of a runaway or stray than anything. Yet, he begs Hongjoong to not take him back.

In the quiet minute of contemplation, the human realizes that as he’s been staring at Yunho, the other has also been sizing him up. Hongjoong blushes slightly under the mutual scrutiny, going to sip at his mostly cooled off tea. Yunho, coming to a conclusion, huffs to himself.

“I… it’s not that I’ve been horribly mistreated or anything, but I’d rather not go back _there_ ,” he starts. Mimicking Hongjoong, he tastes the tea in his hands, momentarily lighting up at the flavor and warmth. Hongjoong notices a small thumping noise and upon looking down, sees that the other’s tail is wagging. He covers his grin with another sip of tea.

“I don’t know how you feel about us hybrids, but already you’ve been the kindest human I’ve met. So I’m more inclined to trust you and your judgment. If you decide I need to leave, I will do so immediately.”

Hongjoong’s heart sinks at the finality of his tone. “Wait, don’t worry about that right now. I’ll assume the _best_ of you unless you prove to me otherwise.”

Yunho’s gaze darts from him, to his mug, to the dark, stained grain of the tabletop, to the brightly painted cupboards, to the unlocked front door, and back to him.

“Right. I was dropped off at the pound because my previous owners didn’t want me anymore. This isn’t the first time it’s happened, either. I’ve been a little kid’s birthday present four times now and _every time_ they’ve grown bored of me in a matter of years. Either that or I’m too big or too much work for them,” he explains, voice dripping with bitterness. Hongjoong purses his lips, willing himself to stay silent for the other.

“I decided I’d had enough. I’m not going to wait around for another kid to treat me as less than human and then hope I end up at another no-kill shelter. It’s only a matter of time before I get unlucky and die if I continue like this. It’s gotta be better this way, right?” He slides down in his chair a little, resting his chin heavily in his hands. 

“So I got out. Jumped the door the moment someone opened it and ran into the fields. And then it rained. And I stumbled here somehow. Met you. The rest is history.” He glances up apologetically. “Sorry, my life story is really depressing.”

Hongjoong hums. He taps the handle of his mug, pondering what to say and do. Yunho’s backstory does help matters, but he’s unsure on how to proceed. The hybrid has no reason to lie, and he’s been genuine thus far.

“I want to ask you,” the other starts, biting his lip again, “If I’m not overstepping, could I stay with you for a while?” At Hongjoong’s surprised stare, he quickly continues. “I would work for it, of course! You mentioned chickens, right? I can help you take care of them! Or-or wash clothes. Or, um, I don’t know, plant seeds? You can make me sleep outside if you don’t want to see me in the house.”

The certainty of his last sentence strikes a chord in Hongjoong’s heart. He imagines a younger Yunho curled up outside, chained to a fencepost while a faceless family berates him for even showing his face inside. The human forces himself to drink half his cup before answering.

“Yunho-ah.” He’s tempted to reach for one of his hands but refrains. “You’re more than welcome to help around my farm. If you think that’s the best you can do for me in exchange for staying, then by all means. But I would _never_ let you sleep outside, god. That sounds awful.”

Maybe he has too much of a bleeding heart. Maybe Yunho’s natural puppy eyes are too convincing. But the increased thumping of his elated tail is too cute and rewarding. Sue him.

“Really? Oh, thank you so much. I promise I’ll make it up to you as best I can. Thank you _so, so much_ ,” Yunho gushes, completely melting into a grateful mess. Hongjoong suppresses the urge to pat his head.

“Don’t mention it,” he mutters, face red. “Now finish your tea and I’ll show you where you can sleep for tonight.”

Honestly, the hybrid’s proposal works out in Hongjoong’s favor as well. Being the only man on his farm for so long, some duties have been lackluster as of late. Having a new farmhand who he only has to pay in food and shelter is _more_ than worthwhile. As he shows Yunho to his mudroom, he plans what activities are easy enough for the other to pick up on. He pulls out a change of clothes for the boy and sets them nearby while he instructs him on how to use the built-in shower. Sure, Hongjoong invited him to stay but that doesn’t mean he gets to use his nice upstairs bathroom shower!

While Yunho cleans up, he ambles into his living room, assessing his meager furniture. After his parents died and left the house and farm to him, much of his decor has been sold off to make ends meet. However, he still has a nice patterned sofa and an antique coffee table with a floor lamp. Next to the sofa is a wicker basket teeming with blankets he usually reserves for the colder months. He can turn the area into a simple sleeping area.

Hongjoong pulls out a majority of the blankets, laying his grandmother’s thick indigo crocheted one first over the sofa. While the cushions are comfortable, Hongjoong wouldn’t want to sleep on the rough fabric. He positions the others around in a way suitable. He sets down the decorative pillows just as Yunho exits the mudroom, padding through the kitchen to the living room. He tilts his head in question, watching silently.

“Here, I made a sleeping space for you.” When the other opens his mouth, he cuts him off. “No, this is the least I can do. I don’t use this space very often anyway. I’m glad you’re getting some use out of these blankets this time of year.”

Yunho ducks his head shyly, muttering his gratitude. Hongjoong smiles sweetly, turning on the lamp next to the sofa. He steps over to the light switch, turning off all overhead lights and leaving the hybrid in a soft glow. He smiles even more at the way his normally oversized mismatched pajamas fit Yunho a little too well. The pants sit lower on his hips to make up for his golden tail, a problem Hongjoong is sure to remedy another day. His hair is much lighter and fluffier now that it is clean and dry. His face is full of quiet disbelief as he studies the mound of blankets before him.

“I’m going to bed, okay?” Hongjoong calls out, shuffling to the stairs in the middle of the space. “If you really need me, my room is the first one on the right.” Yunho nods in understanding.

“Goodnight,” Hongjoong chuckles at his reaction.

“Uh, goodnight?”

The human traipses up the stairs, debating whether he should shower or go straight to bed. After peeling off his sticky clothes he relents to shower in his master bathroom. The entire bedtime routine his brain is either running a mile a minute or filled with cotton. He sighs when he finally falls into bed in fresh pajamas and damp hair. He leaves his window open, enjoying the fresh humid air. The rain has thinned to a mist and looks to stay that way until morning. He’s about to turn his bedside lamp off and call it a night when his door creaks open.

“Gah— Yunho!” He yelps, needlessly pulling the sheets up to cover himself. The dog hybrid pokes his head in, wide eyes searching for something. “W-what is it?”

“I’m really sorry but, if it’s no trouble, could I sleep at the edge of your bed?”

Hongjoong, in his tiredness, must not have been able to control the several emotions of shock, confusion, and slight annoyance on his face. Immediately, Yunho shies behind the cracked white door, his ears barely poking out.

“I’m sorry, I overstepped, didn’t I? Please ignore that and go to sleep, I’ll leave—”

“No, no, Yunho, wait,” Hongjoong sighs, running a hand down his face. “Why do you want to sleep here instead of downstairs? Do you really trust me that much?”

“I just, well, I thought, um,” Yunho takes a deep breath. “I’m uncomfortable by myself downstairs knowing you’re up here and I thought that part of my contribution could be to guard your bed at night while you sleep and I’ll stay on the floor!”

Hongjoong can’t help his laugh. When it’s clear the other isn’t joking he stops. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Very.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. After a moment he shrugs, settling back down in his bed. “Sure, Yunho. Whatever floats your boat. If you’d feel more comfortable on the _floor_ at the end of my bed rather than a _sofa_ , I suppose it won’t hurt.”

The other, clearly not catching his underlying gripe, beams and pushes the door further open. Hongjoong spies three of the blankets pulled from downstairs in his hands. He pulls them in, dropping them into a pile at the bottom of Hongjoong’s king-sized bed. At least he closed the door behind him. When it sounds like the hybrid has gotten himself situated, Hongjoong shakes his head again and reaches to turn off his light. His room plunges into darkness and immediately he’s drifting off. He thought, with his new companion, he would have a harder time falling asleep. But with his weary body and newfangled security alarm in the form of a dog hybrid, he finds himself embracing sleep within seconds.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. A Fox In The Henhouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //Tw for brief descriptions of blood and chicken gore//
> 
> (It's very mild but I thought I should warn anyway)

_ No matter what, some people say, _

_ No matter what, some people hate, _

_ No matter what, the things that make you sick, _

_ Just keep it up. _

_ -“Sunrise” _

The sun peeks through the leaves of the tree outside his window. The glass remains ajar from the night before, allowing a sweet breeze to drift in and ruffle Hongjoong’s bangs. He mumbles as he wakes, stretching languidly and blinking the sand out of his eyes. A content smile tugs at the corners of his cheeks and he enjoys the calm early morning. Sitting up, the sheets bunch at his waist and he drags his legs out and over the side of his mattress. He’s about to slide down to touch the floorboards but his heart jumps as he notices a lump at the end of his bed. A furry tail pokes out from a stack of colorful blankets, moving ever so slightly.

Right.

Hongjoong wills his body to calm down as he remembers the events of the night prior. A dog hybrid, who’s name is Yunho, is now residing with him in exchange for free labor. And for some reason, he’s decided that labor entails guarding Hongjoong at night like an actual dog. He thought hybrids didn’t like to be treated like pets but then again, he hasn’t met a hybrid in his life, only glimpsing them every so often when he goes to town.

Yunho shifts in his sleep, rousing after the creak of Hongjoong’s feet on the floor. He mumbles a little, stretching with long limbs over the human’s pathway. His nose wrinkles as his face meets the sun and dark umber eyes blink against the light. Hongjoong raises an amused eyebrow when their gazes meet and Yunho snaps to alertness.

“H-hello, Hongjoong, uh sir? Mister? G-good morning!” Yunho cringes at his own words and the human frowns slightly.

“Please don’t ever call me sir again,” he says, shuddering at the thought. “Just Hongjoong is fine.”

“Um, okay… Hongjoong.”

He smiles softly at the other, internally cooing at the sight of his bedhead.

“Did you sleep well, on the floor?”

Yunho nods fervently, sitting upright and staring up at him. “I did, yes. Thank you so much again.”

Hongjoong ducks his head, ignoring the creeping heat of embarrassment on his face. “It’s fine. Would you like to join me for breakfast?”

The hybrid’s tail swishes against crocheted fabric. “I would, thank you.”

He steps around the other, who rises carefully, nudging his makeshift bed out of the way. Hongjoong doesn’t have to wait for the other to follow him down the stairs, clicking on the lights in the kitchen. The digital clock over the stove reads 6:40 in the morning, later than he usually wakes. Good thing he doesn’t have much to do that day.

Hongjoong starts a pot of coffee, the first and most important step of his morning ritual. He makes sure to brew more than usual, conscious of the boy timidly sliding into a chair at his table. Then he pulls out a pan from his lower cabinets, setting it on the stove. The human plucks four eggs from his basket next to the sink and cracks them into the pan.

“Wait,” he realizes too late, disposing of the shells, “can you eat eggs? What’s your diet?”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure I can eat anything a human can. I don’t really know since I’ve only eaten dog food and sometimes meat,” Yunho responds, scratching behind his ear.

Hongjoong chokes. “What?! Only dog food? That’s inhumane!”

“Well, I’m not human, so…” He shrugs, shying away from the outburst.

“Nonetheless…” Hongjoong runs a hand through unruly blue hair. “You’re sure to like eggs then. And fruit.” He turns back to the stove, quickly finishing the food. A few shakes of salt and pepper later, the eggs are put on a plate along with fresh grapes from his garden. Hongjoong places the chipped plate in front of Yunho who practically drools. Giggling a little, he quickly pours two colorful mugs of coffee and sets them on the wood.

“Oh, I forgot,” Hongjoong mutters, running to his fridge and pulling out store-bought sweetened creamer. “For the coffee, in case you don’t like it straight.”

“Oh there’s no way I won’t! It all smells so  _ delicious, _ ” Yunho gushes, holding his fork awkwardly. Hongjoong doesn’t comment further, letting the other decide for himself.

The human eats slowly, mainly watching the dog hybrid dive into his food with great intensity. Even if he doesn’t verbally admit his admiration, the thump of his tail says it all. Hongjoong sips at his black coffee, allowing himself to truly wake up bit by bit. He doesn’t understand how the other is so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed…  _ literally _ .

Yunho scrapes the last bit of egg into his mouth easily despite his difficulty holding eating utensils. He immediately moves on to the grapes, popping the red orbs into his mouth one by one. At Hongjoong’s quiet laugh, he freezes, blushing furiously at the sight of his still half-full plate.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, mouth still full.

“What for?” Hongjoong mumbles back, mouth also half-full.

“I should’ve waited for you to eat.”

“It’s fine.” Hongjoong briefly wonders how often he’s said those words and how much more he will have to say them.

Yunho gauges him for a few seconds, gradually returning to eating his grapes. Hongjoong drinks more of his coffee, pondering what to do for the day. The hybrid, after finishing his plate, glances at his own untouched mug. He reaches for it, carefully bringing it to his nose and smelling deeply. His face wrinkles and Hongjoong pauses, eager to see his reaction. Yunho takes a quick gulp and his ears flatten immediately.

“Ugh--!” He forces himself to swallow, gingerly putting the mug down and far away from him. “That’s not like tea…”

Hongjoong can’t help but guffaw, setting down his own mug to clutch the sides of the table. “No, you’re right, it’s not. I told you that you might not like it.” He rubs a few stray tears from his eyes. Yunho stares at him, petulant.

“But it smells so good?” He whines, sticking his tongue out.

“Here,” Hongjoong remedies, popping open the creamer and pouring a liberal amount into Yunho’s coffee. He stirs it with his fork, the dark liquid softening to a warm tan. “Try it now.”

Yunho glares at the modified coffee, untrusting. Hongjoong laughs some more, nudging the mug into the other’s hands. Not able to deny the human, he reluctantly brings it to his mouth again and takes a tentative sip. Though his nose wrinkles once more, his ears raise in contemplation. After a moment, he takes another, larger sip.

“Better, right?”

Yunho begrudgingly nods and Hongjoong returns to his now-cold breakfast. 

The rest of the morning is spent cleaning up Hongjoong’s front room from the events of last night. The mud is cleared and dishes are washed. Hongjoong provides the hybrid with a change of clothes and his biggest work boots. They travel outside to the barn, the sticky heat of late summer already creeping into the air. Hongjoong instructs Yunho on how to collect eggs and check on the chickens. The other hangs on his every word, true to his promise to help out. 

When he’s sure he’s able to finish cleaning out the henhouse and watch the house on his own, Hongjoong gets ready to leave. He still has to do his job, after all. He loads up his truck with his harvest and drives all over his town, delivering his produce to various groceries and plants. He worries about Yunho the entire time, not quite trusting the other to not steal or run away in the hours he’s gone. He likes to believe he’s a good judge of character, and Yunho seems genuine still.

The sun is lower in the sky when he returns, truck empty but virtual wallet full. He’s satisfied with his turnout, whistling jovially as he opens his front door, noticing it’s still unlocked.

“I’m home,” he calls out, frowning at the empty first floor. Hongjoong’s heart beats a bit faster. He hangs his keys and wipes the sweat off his forehead. Damn, he forgot to open his windows or turn on any fans. He decides to do that first, switching on the overhead fan in the living room. He shoves open the window over the sink, plugging in a box fan and momentarily basking in the cool air.

“Yunho?” He tries again, moving back to his front door and peering past the sun out into his yard. Maybe the other is in the barn? Dread pools in his gut with no response. He stomps up the stairs, coughing at the thick humid air. He slams open the door to his bedroom, which is slightly less hot. The pile of blankets at the foot of his bed is gone.

Wait, no. Not gone. Moved. Hongjoong’s frantic gaze catches on an indigo crocheted corner around his bed, near the open window. The room, though still bright with pale wallpaper, is shaded. The sun is on the other side of the house and the window faces east. This time of day, his bedroom is one of the cooler places in the entire house. The overhead fan is languid, on but barely spinning. Hongjoong carefully makes his way around his messy bed, eyes trailing up from the blanket to Yunho’s sleeping head, which is resting on the window frame.

“Yunho,” Hongjoong breathes, relief flooding him.

“Hmm?” The hybrid lifts his head, opening his eyes and noticing the human looming over him. “Oh, Hongjoong! Uh. Welcome home.”

“Yunho, god,” Hongjoong says again, leaning heavily on his bed. “You scared me for a second. I didn’t know where you were.”

Golden floppy ears fall back in embarrassment. “Sorry. I finished everything you asked me to do and this spot is really comfortable, so I fell asleep,” Yunho explains sheepishly.

Hongjoong grapples with his feelings, running fingers through his hair. On one hand, he’s glad Yunho stayed and didn’t do anything wrong. But on the other, why is he so happy to see that he stayed? He’s barely known the other, but he’s already grown an attachment?

“Are you hungry?” He settles on saying, keeping his dilemma to himself for later. Yunho’s tail wags and Hongjoong giggles a little. “I’ll take that as a yes. Time for dinner, then.”

* * *

The next week or so they fall into a routine and Hongjoong gets used to having Yunho around. The hybrid keeps his promise, working dutifully and sometimes going above and beyond what Hongjoong asks him. One night Hongjoong found that not only did Yunho collect all the eggs and feed the chickens, but he also swept the floor outside of the pen in the barn. Another night Yunho washed the dishes before Hongjoong thought to do so. He acquainted himself with most of Hongjoong’s household chores, taking over while the human deals with his farm.

He insists to sleep at the end of Hongjoong’s bed, though. No matter how many times he offered the couch or even the spare bed in the guest bedroom, Yunho stubbornly lies on his pile of blankets in his room. Hongjoong gave up after three days, no longer surprised to see a blonde head poking past his mattress in the morning.

And so they live together in a symbiotic relationship, free of conflict or incidents.

Until one day, Yunho wakes Hongjoong up well before sunrise.

“Hongjoong.  _ Hongjoong _ !” He groans at the incessant hisses, blinking blearily at his surroundings. The room is still dark, the sluggish fan rotating above in the inky gloom. Hongjoong’s head flops over, coming face to face with a very concerned Yunho.

“M-wha?”

“There’s someone in the barn.”

“What?” Hongjoong squints, still trying to get his bearings.

“ _ There’s someone in the barn, _ ” Yunho whispers frantically, his ears laid flat. Realization washes over Hongjoong like a bucket of cold water. He sits up fast, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. 4:00 in the morning.

“What the fuck…?” Hongjoong mumbles, getting out of bed. He peeks out his window, open due to another warm night. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I can hear them. They’re in the chicken pen,” Yunho confirms, eyes piercing through the darkness.

“Shit.” Hongjoong scuttles out his room, trying to move quietly down the stairs. He doesn’t bother to turn any lights on in the kitchen, fumbling for his phone and a flashlight. He toes on some sandals and swings open the front door. He beckons Yunho to stay close and flies down the front porch.

The night sky is clear, twinkling with distant stars. If it weren’t for his current situation, Hongjoong wouldn’t mind stopping to stargaze. But pressing matters push him across the lawn, gravel crunching underneath his soles.

“Why is someone in my henhouse,” he grumbles, stumbling as his body tries to catch up with his mind.

“I think they’re eating the chickens,” Yunho provides, voice hushed with fear.

“ _ Noooooo _ ,” Hongjoong whines, sliding the red barn door open with force. He rushes in, clicking on the flashlight and shining it in through the chickenwire of the pen. The inside door is still closed and locked, meaning the intruder wiggled in through the miniature chicken door from outside. There’s already a ruckus of feathers and aggressive clucking, but all his chickens are cowering in the corner closest to them. Across the pen, near the small opening, a shadowed figure hunches over what looks like the carcass of an unlucky hen.

“Hey!” Hongjoong yells with a sinking suspicion. He levels the flashlight at the figure, which looks to be wearing all black with a hood over their face. Their head whips up and reflective eyes glare into Hongjoong’s and he gasps. Blood smears across the person’s masculine face, staining his dirty hoodie and dripping down his hands. His poor hen’s body is mauled and broken, already halfway eaten. Hongjoong mentally laments for his feathered friend, shaking his head and holding the flashlight as threateningly as he can.

“Stop that!” He yells again. Whoever he is, he’s not human, which means Hongjoong is lucky (or unlucky) enough to meet yet another hybrid. However, this one looks wild. A feral growl warns the human to stay away.

Yunho growls back, the first time since he met Hongjoong. The other flinches, dropping the dead chicken and pressing against the wall. The human guesses his plan of action right away.

“Hold on just a minute!” He shouts, bringing his phone into view. The hybrid snarls, inching closer to his exit. “Don’t make me call the pound on you!”

Everyone freezes. Hongjoong prays that Yunho recognizes the empty threat.

“Don’t do that.”

The voice is low but firm, surprising the two outside the pen. Hongjoong gulps, creeping closer to the inside door. The hybrid presses himself even more into the wall, but doesn’t make for the chicken door.

“Then don’t leave. The moment you exit that tiny door, I’ll send Yunho here after you and call the pound.” His threat is weak, but it’s the best he can come up with on the spot. Hongjoong hopes the other doesn’t call his bluff.

“What are you going to do to me?” He hisses, still frozen.

“I just want to talk, okay? I won’t snitch on you if you come out here and explain why you just killed one of my chickens.” Hongjoong briefly asks himself why he’s even bothering. He could just cut his losses and let the other go off into the night. But that doesn’t solve the underlying problem, or do justice for his traumatized hens.

Hongjoong hands the flashlight to Yunho. The boy sticks to his side while he unlocks the door with one hand. Still holding the other hand with the phone up, he opens the door and steps aside.

“Come on. I’m rather uncomfortable standing here, so would you be so kind as to come out of there?” He considers for a second and then tacks on, “I have better food inside for you than raw chicken.”

“H-Hongjoong!” Yunho protests, glaring at the intruder. 

“It’s fine,” he whispers, gently pulling him behind himself. The unknown hybrid frowns, slowly standing up. Hongjoong spots a long, black, fluffy tail with a white tip swishing behind him. The boy slinks through the straw, subconsciously rubbing the blood on his chin with a sleeve. He skirts around the edge of the opening, eyeing the open exit behind the two.

“Now will you follow me to my house? I promise I won’t call the pound if you do.”

The hybrid nods slowly, ducking his head so thick inky bangs cover half his face. Hongjoong backs up carefully, pushing Yunho to do the same. The human squeezes Yunho’s wrist, tilting his head discreetly. When Yunho catches on, he turns around, leading the hybrid out of his barn. While the dog hybrid enters in the chicken coop, Hongjoong pauses by the entrance, holding up a hand. The boy waits with him, the air tense. Not more than a minute passes, but it feels like an eternity.

Yunho quickly secures the door to the pen, carrying the carcass of Hongjoong’s chicken out of the fray. The rest of the chickens never ceased their clucking, running around as soon as the door locked. Yunho delicately brings the dead hen out of the barn, turning to Hongjoong for further guidance.

“I’ll have to burn her…” Hongjoong mourns, voice trailing off. “Just… set her down in the fire pit.”

Yunho dutifully walks off in the direction of Hongjoong’s bonfire pile in the corner of his yard. Meanwhile, Hongjoong beckons their mystery guest to the house. Honestly, he’s surprised the other hasn’t run off already.

The other pauses at the doorstep when Hongjoong pulls at the screen door. “Come on,” he urges, holding it for him. He pads in, eyes downcast and arms swaddled around his body. Hongjoong leaves the front door open for Yunho, kicking off his sandals.

“Please come here, so I can wipe the blood off your face and hands,” he explains, leading him into the kitchen.

“I can do it myself,” the other mutters, but still follows, causing Hongjoong to smile. The human fishes out a washcloth from a drawer near the sink, wetting it and holding it out for the other to take. He does, careful to not let their fingers brush, and blindly scrubs it over his face.

“What’s your name?” Hongjoong asks, leaning on the counter. He doesn’t answer at first, focused on his face and hands. When the human inclines his head, trying to meet his eyes, he leans away.

“San,” he utters, staring at his own dirty fingernails. “And you’re Hongjoong. The dog is Yunho.”

“You are correct,” Hongjoong chuckles, resisting the urge to reach out and take over in wiping the other’s face.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” San mumbles. “I killed one of your chickens. Shouldn’t you be mad?”

“Well,” Hongjoong sighs, “I normally would be livid, but I know you didn’t do that for no reason or to spite me. You climbed in there through the chicken door, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” San folds the bloodied washcloth in half and holds it out for Hongjoong to take.

“How did you get in from outside the pen? I thought I had it closed off completely with chicken wire.” Hongjoong takes the washcloth, running it under more water.

San squirms in place. “There’s a hole at the bottom somewhere and I was able to crawl under.”

“Was it small?”

“...Yes?” San answers, unable to see why Hongjoong is asking him these questions. The human nods to himself, squeezing out the washcloth.

“Then that means you were really desperate to get into my pen. No animal or human would go that far to take shelter, let alone eat a chicken. And to eat a chicken, now I don’t know much about hybrids, but I’m sure you would rather not eat a chicken like that, right?”

“...Right.”

“So you felt it was necessary to go that far, and for that, I forgive you,” Hongjoong concludes, stepping closer to the other.

San, too surprised to back away, stutters. “Just like that? You’re fine with me ruining something of yours?” His jaw slams shut the moment Hongjoong touches it with the damp cloth.

“Hold on, you missed quite a few spots…” Hongjoong mutters, internally rejoicing when the other doesn’t flinch away. “And no, I’m not fine with it. I’ll probably cry later when I have to burn one of my babies. But I forgive you.”

He pulls back as soon as he’s done, not wanting to test his boundaries too much. “Now, does that mean you’re getting away with this scot-free, absolutely not.”

Fear fills San’s onyx eyes and Hongjoong backtracks. “Wait, I won’t  _ force _ you to do anything. I’ll figure it out later but for now, I just want to enjoy breakfast.”

He punctuates his sentence by pulling out his coffee pot and filling it.

Yunho comes in a moment later, scaring San two feet into the air. He jerks into the counter so hard his hood slips and reveals large pointed black ears. San quickly tugs the hood back over his head, moving slightly closer to Hongjoong as the dog hybrid walks into the kitchen.

“Please don’t tell me he’s staying,” Yunho whines, settling into his spot at the kitchen table. San bristles as Hongjoong continues to prepare their usual breakfast plus one.

“Yunho, this is San. He won’t be staying, but he will help me fix the pen to ensure no more break-ins occur,” Hongjoong decides. “San, do you like eggs?”

“What?” Both hybrids ask, with varying levels of incredulousness. 

“Hongjoong, he already ate--”

“I, um. Do like eggs, yes.”

“Wonderful,” Hongjoong says, ignoring Yunho’s protests. “San, can you please sit at the table with Yunho? I’ll be over shortly.”

“Hongjoong!”

“No.” He tunes out the other, pouring his own coffee. He scoops scrambled eggs onto three plates and brings them over. San awkwardly hunches opposite of Yunho who stews. They both brighten at the sight of food, thank goodness.

Yunho picks up his fork readily while San nudges the eggs with one finger. Hongjoong sits in between the tension, sipping at his coffee. He notices quite a few similarities in the two: both had trouble accepting a human’s help and adjusting to more human treatment. But unlike Yunho, who melted moments after Hongjoong took him in, San is ice cold.

“So, San. You’re a fox, aren’t you?” The human observes after a couple bites. He sighs when the other freezes, staring intently at a nick in his plate.

“How’d you know?” He asks quietly, tail swishing.

Hongjoong gestures at his hood and shaggy tail. “Your… features are different. And you’re quite removed compared to dear Yunho, here.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Yunho barks.

“You’re very energetic is all,” Hongjoong placates, placing a calm hand over Yunho’s. “Now, am I correct? Also you went for my chickens, and there’s a few animals that I can think of that break into hen houses.”

San’s gaze flickers to meet his. “You’re right. What are you going to do about it?” He asks, defiant.

“Nothing at all. I was just curious.” He finishes his breakfast, gulping down the rest of his coffee. Then he claps his hands. “So, here’s the plan for today.”

Both hybrids bristle.

“San, I’d like for you to help me fix that hole in my chickenwire. Once that’s taken care of, you’re free to go,” Hongjoong promises.

Wide onyx eyes blink at him. “Really? You’ll let me go, just like that?”

Yunho frowns, pushing his chair back and standing up. It screeches against the hardwood, causing him to wince. “Hongjoong, he killed one of your hens! You were so worried about them and you’re willing to just let it go?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Hongjoong emphasizes, sighing heavily. “Please, I’d rather get this over and done with. I’m aiming to teach a lesson and reinforce that this shouldn’t happen again, okay?”

Yunho clearly wants to argue, but he ultimately lets it go, much to Hongjoong’s relief. He carefully stands up, pushing his chair in without fuss and delivering both his and Yunho’s empty plates into the sink. San continues picking at his, stopping when the human approaches him.

“I’m done,” he whispers, nudging the plate away.

“Alright then.” Hongjoong picks up the plate and motions for Yunho. The boy grabs the dish, wordlessly washing them. “Please, come with me.”

San follows him to the mudroom where Hongjoong prepares for their new task. He gathers all the tools he’ll need in a bucket, shoving it into San’s arms. Then he--still in his pajamas--pulls on his work boots and exits through the back door.

The sun has just risen, resting on the horizon before beginning its trek through the sky. The surrounding fields are blank, empty and dry after harvest. The outside part of the henhouse faces the morning sun, providing Hongjoong with ample lighting despite the early hour. Some of his hens are already out, chattering amongst themselves. He lets San drop the bucket near the fence, beckoning the other over. The hens shy away from his dark silhouette, cawing loudly.

“Where’s this hole you climbed through?”

San circles the wire, pointing at a subtle dip in the ground where the wire is pushed up. He pokes the small opening with his foot and it gives, revealing that the hole can be much wider. 

“I’m going to have to patch it,” Hongjoong groans. “Follow me, the extra wire is inside.”

He leads San to the barn entrance, sliding open the door. In truth, he could easily get the items himself, but he doesn’t trust the fox hybrid to not run off as soon as he’s out of sight. Hongjoong directs San to help him carry the rest of their materials out to the pen. He begins lecturing the other on what to do. It’s clear that San is regretting ever setting foot on Hongjoong’s farm. Good.

Yunho joins them within the hour, also in his pajamas. Though the days are progressively cooler, the sun beats down on them as they work together. Hongjoong wipes sweat off of his brow. The work is simple but tedious, occupying the three well into the rest of the morning. The wind picks up a little, ruffling their hair and drifting over the wide expanse of fields. 

Eventually, they finish around noon. Instead of patching the one hole, Hongjoong decided to reinforce the entire fence for good measure. He dusts off his hands, throwing the hammer into the dirt and turning. Yunho lays splayed out, the gold strands of his hair blending with the blades of tall grass. San sits further away, legs spread in exhaustion. He’s sweating much harder than the other two, the black fabric of his torn clothes soaking in the sun’s rays. Yet, the boy never shed his layers, the hood stubbornly fixed around his panting face.

“There,” Hongjoong huffs. “All done.” The chickens cluck in response, perhaps congratulating them.

“Finally,” Yunho murmurs, trailing his fingers through the grass. The human rolls his eyes at him, instead facing their guest. San’s eyes are vacant, staring vaguely at the ruddy barn wall.

“Well, you’re free to go.”

San’s attention snaps to Hongjoong in shock.

“Are you sure?” He asks, cautious as he rises from his spot. He shoves his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, feet dancing further at the prospect of freedom.

“I’m sure,” Hongjoong affirms, waving a hand. “Although,” he adds, noticing the hybrid’s eagerness to leave. “You’re welcome to come back anytime. I wouldn’t mind your company.”

He smiles at San’s reddening cheeks. The other rocks back and forth on his heels, internally debating something. Yunho rolls over onto his stomach, not bothering to sit up but still attentive. Hongjoong cocks his head, waiting patiently.

“...I’m sorry.”

“Hmm? What was that?” Hongjoong asks, grinning even more.

“ _ I’m sorry _ ,” San reiterates, fluffy tail swinging. He ducks his head again, hiding behind dark hair. “I’m sorry for breaking into your barn and eating your chickens. I didn’t mean to go so far but… I didn’t really have a choice.”

San swallows. “Also, thank you for your hospitality. You could’ve turned me in the moment you knew I was in your barn, but you didn’t. And you didn’t have to feed me. But you did. So thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Hongjoong replies, leaning from one genial foot to the other. San drifts further away, nearing the back corner of the barn.

“Goodbye,” San mutters, not looking back. He scampers off, disappearing behind the barn and away into the fields. Hongjoong stares at the cumulus clouds floating in the distance, sighing in content. After a moment, he turns around and meets a ruffled Yunho, who grunts in disdain.

“I don’t think you should’ve done that,” he admits, crossing his arms like a child.

“Nonsense. It was the right thing to do. It worked for you, didn’t it?”

Yunho sulks, unable to refute that. He slowly rises, brushing stray dirt and grass off of his body. He peeks around Hongjoong as if confirming that San really left.

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

Hongjoong tilts his head, gaze snagging on the blue horizon once more.

“I have a good feeling he will.”

Hongjoong laughs at Yunho’s scowl, reaching up and rubbing his head briefly. Despite the long face, Yunho’s tail wags at the motion. The human skips over to the bucket full of tools, hauling it up and swinging it as he walks to the front of the barn.

“Come on, let’s make some lunch.”

Yunho prances alongside, carrying the roll of wire. The two put away everything as fast as they can, bumbling through their clean-up process at the prospect of food. They travel up the steps of the porch, the screen door swinging. Hongjoong chances one last look at the fields beyond, searching for a black figure among the brown and green.

_ He’ll be back, _ Hongjoong reassures himself before disappearing inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The number one phrase said by Kim Hongjoong: "it's fine"
> 
> I don't know anything about running a farm, so please don't believe everything I describe about Hongjoong's life. I'm trying my best lol.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. It's Raining Cats and Dogs

_So please, tell me it's alright_

_In this anxious mist_

_It's all in a moment_

_So please,_

_If this is my way, hold my hand_

_So I don't wander for long_

_-“Mist”_

  
  


Thick blankets of mist drape over the fields, obscuring vision past the property line. The first signs of autumn dot the few trees that decorate the yard. Passing days become slightly shorter and colder. Hongjoong sits out on his porch on a weekend, having woken up earlier than dawn. Changing seasons are always difficult for him; they bring onslaughts of allergies and aching joints as the weather and temperatures swing like a pendulum.

His inability to settle leads to sleepless nights. Sleepless nights lead to early mornings on the porch. He made sure not to wake Yunho as he tiptoed downstairs into the kitchen, filling a glass with water. He slipped on his sandals and almost forgot to grab his jacket before stepping outside. Then he sat, shivering slightly in his mother’s rocking chair, and surveyed what little he could see of his farm.

Hongjoong stares blankly for the most part, breathing in the fresh air and listening to the birds in the trees. He hears a crow somewhere, hopefully far from his garden. Squinting, he leans forward in a useless attempt to find it. Instead of catching a crow near his garden, he notices a black speck in the distance. He frowns, sitting back and taking a gulp of his water. The speck grows into a smudge, darting through the fog and slowly coming nearer.

A figure materializes from the smudge, dressed in a familiar tattered hoodie and black clothing. Hongjoong’s lips tug into a smile and he suppresses the urge to call out, letting the other notice on his own.

San bounds into view, skirting along the edges of the field towards the house. Reflective eyes catch the dim porch light and meet Hongjoong’s. The human smiles jovially and San freezes, contemplating what to do next. Clearly he hadn’t expected Hongjoong to be up so early. He slinks closer while the other sips at his water, patient.

“Good morning,” Hongjoong greets when San reaches the other side of the porch’s white wooden railing. The hybrid inclines his head, resting his arms on the railing. 

“I had a feeling you’d come back eventually,” Hongjoong says, chuckling. “It’s been a few weeks.”

“Actually, I’ve come through here multiple times. You haven’t been awake to see me,” San admits. The human’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Really? Yunho never mentioned that to me,” Hongjoong murmurs, leaning on his elbow. 

San shrugs. “I can be quiet.”

“So it seems.” The human frowns at his state of dress. “Do you have any other clothes?”

The hybrid grimaces, tugging at his overgrown bangs with one hand. “No. But I try to wash these in the river.”

Hongjoong glances in the general direction where he knows a river runs by, past both his and his neighbor’s fields. “That far? Do you have a little shelter over there? A log or tree stump in the woods?”

“Something like that.”

Hongjoong hums, finishing his glass of water. San shifts on his feet, awkward but not uncomfortable enough to turn tail and leave. The porch light glows between them.

“Have you eaten yet today?”

San shakes his head, a glint in his eye. Hongjoong grins, standing up at a leisurely pace.

“Would you mind joining us for breakfast again?”

“I was sort of hoping you’d ask me. Can I?” San asks timidly. Hongjoong isn’t sure if foxes wag their tails in happiness but he swears he can see the white tip of San’s swishing behind him.

“By all means,” Hongjoong assures, holding open the screen door. San bounds up the creaking steps, sidling past the human through the door. Hongjoong laughs at his actions, stepping in behind him. What a nice start to his morning after all.

* * *

Another weekend later, Hongjoong finds himself sitting on the couch in his quaint living room, a laptop sitting on his crossed legs. He props his arms on the decorative pillows, scrolling intently through several shopping sites. The internet and WiFi connection isn’t always great in rural parts, but it’s better than nothing. Yunho’s in the barn, routinely caring for their chickens. After burning the hen a month ago, the dog hybrid had been quite adamant about checking in on their feathered friends.

That leaves Hongjoong with a short amount of time to scroll through different retail websites, particularly their pet sections. He learned the hard way that the world still deems hybrids as less than human, shoved in the same category as animals despite their clear intelligence and mostly human appearance.

Which is precisely the reason Hongjoong is so worried. With Yunho (and perhaps San) becoming a permanent fixture in his life for the unforeseen future, he’s got to implement some fail-safes. Though he knows very little about hybrid rights and etiquette, he does know the basics, which include ownership.

Hongjoong shudders, loathing the idea of _owning_ Yunho. But if someone were to stop by and notice, or if Yunho ever drifted outside of Hongjoong’s property lines, he’s got to be prepared. Of course, it’s not exactly legal in the first place and he doesn’t have any official papers. But the next feasible step is… 

A collar.

What better and painfully obvious way are pets identified? 

Which leads Hongjoong to comb through the pet supplies pages, trying to find the blandest strip possible that would get the job done. Of course, that’s not the only thing he’s done. San’s words have weighed on his mind and caused him to notice Yunho wearing the same two outfits for however long.

He’s got probably ten sets of clothing sitting in his online cart, oversized and ready to drain his wallet. Hongjoong doesn’t think the dog hybrid cares for certain styles, so he stuck with simple and plain colors. Although, being the secret fashionista he is, there are some printed tees, plaid jackets, and hoodies.

Hongjoong sighs to himself, clicking and dragging two black collars into his cart. Better to get it over with. He can always return them if Yunho refuses.

Right on time, the other boy clambers into the mudroom, the door swinging shut behind him. Hongjoong quickly maneuvers to the final buying page, typing in his card number. Yunho chucks his borrowed boots off, picking up a basket full of eggs and bringing it into the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” Yunho asks, ears perked in adorable curiosity. He sets the basket on the counter between the sink and the stove, meandering over to Hongjoong.

The human finishes his transaction just as Yunho comes up behind him, the screen resetting to the homepage of the store.

“Buying clothes? I thought you had a lot, or are all your drawers empty up there?” Yunho jokes, tail wagging.

“Sometimes I just like to browse,” Hongjoong defends, not quite lying. “I have designated work clothes and then I have my fashion clothes.”

“Right.” Yunho’s bright eyes survey the screen over Hongjoong’s shoulder. “Can I join you? I’m done with the chores.”

“Sure,” Hongjoong grins, scooting closer to the side of the couch. He knows how excited the boy gets with electronics; the first time Hongjoong had enough downtime to watch a random drama, he was absolutely captivated despite knowing nothing about it. 

Yunho vaults over the couch, landing heavily next to the human and bumping into him. He doesn’t bother to shy away anymore, snuggling in close and hooking his chin over Hongjoong’s shoulder. He reaches up and ruffles Yunho’s hair, briefly scratching behind the golden flap of his ears. They spend the rest of the afternoon like that, scrolling through various shopping sites together.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Don’t forget the cartons in the fridge, too,” Yunho calls out, disappearing through the front door as Hongjoong checks the kitchen. He stacks the six dozen or so of egg cartons in his arms, closing the refrigerator door with his hip. He lowers the stack into a wooden crate, hefting it up and bringing it outside.

Yunho carefully slides the rest of the crates, also full of eggs, into the bed of his old teal truck. The vehicle is backed up between the house and the barn, almost loaded up on the gravel driveway. Today is another shipping day, where Hongjoong travels all across town to drop off his produce for the local groceries and markets. With the cooler weather, the demand for eggs has increased and he has less to spare for breakfast times, much to Yunho’s dismay.

Hongjoong lifts the final crate into place, pulling a tarp over to cover the produce. He swiftly secures it, closing the back of the truck up and dusting his hands. Yunho’s ears lift when the human turns.

“Good job,” Hongjoong says, grinning when the other’s tail wags. “I won’t be back for a while, so don’t worry too much. Unless, I don’t come back by tomorrow,” he jokes.

“Right,” Yunho responds, entirely too serious. Hongjoong huffs, twirling his keys and opening the door to the driver’s side.

“Play nice with San if he comes by, okay?”

Yunho pouts, crossing his arms and looking away. Hongjoong laughs, climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the truck. The hybrid startles at the loud grumble of the engine, backing away from the vehicle. Hongjoong closes the door, cranking the window down.

“I mean it! Don’t chase him off! Goodbye!” He shouts over the engine. Yunho nods, sulking back towards the porch. He waves as Hongjoong slowly drives down the rocky driveway, rolling onto the empty road.

He turns on his radio, switching it to the built-in CD player. A classic rock song filters in through the speakers, one of his father’s favorite albums. He has all of the old CDs lined up in the door of the passenger seat. Hongjoong settles in for the ride, cruising down the country road to his first destination, one of many.

The sky is gray, a muted wash of clouds still bright enough that he opts for sunglasses. The weather forecast on his phone calls for rain later in the day. He hopes he can get most of his deliveries in before the tarp becomes leaden with rainwater and every move is a hassle. 

Fields upon fields rush past him with the occasional small subdivision or family farm. His first stop is the closest, but it’s fairly rural compared to the rest of the town and county that he supplies. Which is why he doesn’t find it odd to see a silver car pulled over to the side of the road. Often, teenagers will overestimate how much gas they have for countryside trips and end up stranded. Or sometimes couples drive out and park off the road to have some alone time. He makes sure to give the car a wide berth as he passes, meandering into the other lane. He rights his course when he sees the car in his rearview mirror.

Hongjoong frowns as he watches the rapidly shrinking silver vehicle in his mirror. It’s fairly new and fancy, some name brand in a style unsuited for rural spaces. Definitely not from around here. What’s more, there was a small crowd of people outside of the car. And they did not look happy. He swears he saw some of them getting yelled at. Oh well, not his problem.

He continues on with his day, reaching all of his destinations safe and sound. However, the car and the people linger in the back of his mind. The whole scene felt out of place, like he stumbled on a movie set. Hongjoong completes his deliveries, mouth curving into a satisfied smile as he receives his checks. Soon enough, he’s done for the day, rolling back home, to Yunho. Maybe San, if he stops by for dinner.

Hongjoong sighs happily, fingers tapping on the steering wheel to the beat of the song. It’s a habit he picked up from his father. He switches on the windshield wipers to the lowest setting, noticing the sheen of a light mist covering his vision. The tiny droplets grow bigger and faster, soon building into the rainstorm his phone promised. The sky is much darker with the storm and approaching dusk.

His mind flits to the pulled-over car once again as he turns onto the final road home. Are they still there, in this rain? Or did they find backup in the time that he’s been gone? Hongjoong knows it’s the latter, but he slows down anyway, vowing to help them if he sees them again.

After five or so minutes of cruising under 50, he’s about to give up. Whoever was there is long gone, and if they were still stranded, Hongjoong must have missed them. He clicks his wipers up a notch, and that’s when he notices them.

A flash of white reflects from the truck’s headlights, alerting Hongjoong to someone up ahead. No wait, _two people_ . He pushes on the brakes, almost jerking forward in his own haste. The white is on one of their legs, swishing back and forth, and—wait a damn minute. That’s a fucking _tail._

Hongjoong curses but can’t convince his body to just drive past and forget it. He mentally berates himself the entire time, pulling closer to the shoulder of the road, the gravel making his teeth clack. He rolls to a stop beside the two, who thankfully pause to regard him. Two pairs of reflective eyes stare at him, the only thing he can make out in the indirect light of the truck’s headlights. He shifts into park, leaning over the seat to crank down the passenger window a little.

“Are you guys lost?” Hongjoong shouts over the rain. He can barely see them, the combined height of the truck and the ditch next to the road’s shoulder making it impossible to gauge them properly.

“Fuck off,” one of them yells from underneath a mop of curled black hair. Hongjoong swears he can spy a set of pointed dog ears. 

“I can help you guys. Do you have somewhere to be? ‘Cuz right now you’re going nowhere in this rain,” Hongjoong tries to reason. _Why am I doing this?_ He asks himself.

The one who has not spoken turns to face the other, squeezing his shoulder. This person has long blond hair, almost white like his tail and pointed ears. The ears have large spots on them, and when he turns again, Hongjoong catches another discolored spot near his left eye.

“Why are you helping us?” The blond asks warily. It’s not the first time the human has heard that question. _Yeah,_ Hongjoong thinks. _Why are you?_

He tries to shrug it off. “I wouldn’t want to be in the rain. And you two seem harmless. I promise I won’t hurt you, just tell me where you need to go, and I’ll take you.”

The two make eye contact with each other again, and Hongjoong knows a silent conversation when he sees one. After a moment, the blond reaches up and pulls at the passenger door. It swings open, the automatic interior lights blinking on. 

He climbs in the passenger seat, refusing to make eye contact. A glint of metal shines at the base of his neck as he settles in, revealing a choker of sorts. No, a _collar_.

Hongjoong can’t help his widened eyes as he detects another on the second hybrid, who gruffly sits on top of the first. They close the door, cramming as far away as they can from the human. He almost comments for them to put on a seatbelt but wisely refrains. Instead, Hongjoong turns on his blinker, shifting back into drive and slowly entering the road.

“Are you two lost? Where do you need to go?” Hongjoong asks politely, turning down his music. Their eyes flicker and the one with black hair answers quietly.

“The pound.”

Hongjoong balks, decelerating momentarily before recovering. “Wait, what? Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he mutters coldly. Hongjoong bites his bottom lip, absently turning the windshield wipers up another notch. The next minute is tense, Hongjoong mentally scrambling for what to say next.

“Uh, are you perhaps finding your… owner at the pound?” Hongjoong cringes at his own words.

The blond levels a glare that makes him shudder.

“Our owner ditched us,” he spits. “ _Literally._ ”

“Oh,” Hongjoong responds, voice small. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He turns his head to stare out the window, throwing up an air of aloofness that Hongjoong can see through. Despite his blank expression, his eyes glitter with unshed tears and his ears lay back in apprehension. A movement out of the corner of Hongjoong’s eye draws attention to their clasped hands, fingers interlocked in mutual emotional support. The black-haired boy looks smaller sitting on top of his friend, yet more defiant than him. 

“Still,” Hongjoong mutters, mostly to himself. He keeps his gaze on the long straight road ahead. The harsh rain patters on the roof of the truck. “The pound is the last place you want to go…”

Of course, his temporary companions overhead.

“What do you mean?” The smaller demands, free hand clenching on his knee. He leans forward a bit, attempting to intimidate the human.

“Uh,” Hongjoong scrambles for a proper explanation, splaying his fingers on the steering wheel. “Well, I have a friend. He’s a dog hybrid, uh, golden retriever to be exact. He told me that the pound is awful.”

“Where are we supposed to go, then?” Pale eyes bore into the side of Hongjoong’s head.

He gulps at the loaded question. _Don’t do it, Hongjoong_ , he tells himself. _Don’t give in. Don’t say it._

“You could come with me. At least get out of this rain for a while so you can figure out what to do next?”

_Goddamnit, Kim Hongjoong._

The ensuing awkwardness makes him want to knock his head on the steering wheel. Rain gushes way too loudly in his ears along with the current track in his CD player. Hongjoong drums his fingers, not wanting to glance in the two hybrids’ direction.

“And if we say no?”

He sighs. “I will take you to the pound if you really want me to.”

The blond squeezes their conjoined hands. Another silent conversation ensues as Hongjoong lifts his foot off the gas pedal. When he starts to brake, turning on his signal, they both face him.

“Fine,” the black-haired one speaks for them both. “But remember, we outnumber you right now. If you decide to mess with us, we will not hesitate to fuck you up,” he growls.

Hongjoong’s breath stutters and he wonders if he’s making a huge mistake. After a moment he nods jerkily, turning the truck into his driveway. What perfect timing. Everyone is tense as the truck ambles over the bumpy pebbles, between the house and barn. He would drive it into the separated garage next to the house, but he doesn’t want to upset his new companions.

Through the navy blue murk and rain, warm lights shine from the windows. Even with curtains, Hongjoong can spy Yunho moving around in the living room. Oh no. The other was already mildly upset about San. How will he feel with two more strangers? He gulps. Only one way to find out.

“I don’t have an umbrella, sorry. You’ll have to just make a run for it,” he says, turning off the truck. He shoves the keys into his coat pocket along with his phone and throws a hood over his face. Opening the door, he slides out of the vehicle and closes it, quickly skirting around the front to open the passenger door.

The two hybrids don’t hesitate to leap out of their shared seat, giving the human a wide berth. Hongjoong beckons with his hands, racing to the porch. Thankfully, they follow close behind, shaking out their hair under the safe roof. He opens the unlocked front door and holds the screen door for them, ushering them in.

“Hongjoong! Welcome home…” Yunho’s bright voice trails away as he notices their guests. He stops his eager pacing in the living room, ears and tail drooping in confusion. Next to him, on the couch, a pair of wide black ears poke out. They quickly disappear under a familiar musty hood. San, who seemed somewhat comfortable a few seconds before, glares.

“Yunho! San! I, uh, hope I didn’t interrupt anything. Please meet my new friends…” Hongjoong winces, realizing his mistake. He sweeps his arms in a weak flourish, silently begging the two to speak.

“I’m Wooyoung,” the one with the black hair introduces. “And he is Yeosang.”

“Great!” Hongjoong claps once, grateful to finally have names. It’s not much, but it’s a step in the right direction. He pulls off his shoes and hangs his coat, fishing his phone out and putting it in his back pocket. He runs a hand through faded blue hair, not sure what to do next.

“You can take your shoes off here, if you want,” Hongjoong says softly. They do as asked, deliberately avoiding the other two hybrids near the couch.

“I’m leaving,” San mutters, slinking near the wall.

“Wait, please don’t leave. It’s raining pretty hard out there,” Hongjoong pleads, holding his hands up. “I’m so sorry this is short notice and I promise I’ll explain later, okay? But they needed to get out of this rain and I’m not letting you get a cold.”

San shares a glance with Yunho. The dog hybrid shrugs, still in unconcealed dismay. San nods slightly to Hongjoong and perches back on the patterned couch. The human’s brow furrows at the sight. Since when did those two get closer? Last he knew, Yunho was still pretty jealous of San.

“Anyway,” Hongjoong laughs nervously, shaking out of his train of thought. “Would you two like some dinner? Or would you like to dry off first?”

His eyes catch on Yeosang’s hand, which tugs insistently at Wooyoung’s striped sleeve. Now that they’re in better lighting, he can observe their state of dress, which is surprisingly better than what he’s seen Yunho and San in. Not only are their shirts patterned and their pants thicker material, but they each had a decent pair of athletic shoes.

“We’d like to have some space. No food. I’d rather not be more indebted to you than I already am,” Wooyoung decides, the last sentence spoken more under his breath.

“No-? No food?” Hongjoong stutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, follow me please.” He pads across the small space to the stairs, flicking on the light to the upstairs hall. 

“You two, stay there and I’ll be right back, okay?” He promises, looking towards Yunho and San. They both sulk on the couch, not answering.

He climbs the stairs, floorboards creaking under him only, and leads the two new hybrids down the hall to the only place he can think of: the spare bedroom.

He gropes for the light switch, accidentally turning on the overhead fan in the process. Off-white light fills the dusty room, the furniture bare and the bed made. It’s a stark contrast to the charming messiness of his own master bedroom, especially knowing this room used to be Hongjoong’s.

When his parents were still around, in their small generational house, he lived in this room. There are remnants of his younger presence like the dark blue walls and yellow plaid comforter. His old furniture is painted white, including the vanity mirror on one wall. However, it all has been empty for years, the surfaces coated in a layer of dust. Cadmium yellow, navy blue, and white pillows lay haphazard at the head of the bed. The white curtains are wide open, revealing the flat window of night beyond.

Hongjoong thought about giving the room to Yunho, but the other is content with him, so he gave up on the idea as soon as he came up with it. San never stays the night. Perhaps Wooyoung and Yeosang can find some use in it, even for one night. At least, he can provide shelter and privacy.

The human rounds the bed, closing the curtains on the other side of the room. He pulls the decorative pillows off and piles them in a corner, pushing the wrinkled sheets down some.

“Here, feel free to make yourselves comfortable. I think I have some towels for you guys…”

“That’s fine,” Wooyoung mutters, Yeosang still behind him. They inch into the room, eyes roaming the new space.

“We never got your name,” Yeosang adds, the first time he’s spoken since when they first entered his truck. Though not nearly as harsh as then, he still holds an edge in his voice.

“Oh, it’s Hongjoong.” He smiles as genuine as he can, slowly walking out the room. “If you need anything more, don’t hesitate to let me know. I’ll be downstairs.”

He closes the door behind him, leaving it cracked so they don’t feel locked in.

“Why does it sound like I’m using my customer service voice?” He asks himself, bounding down the stairs. He heaves a sigh of relief when he sees his two hybrids still waiting for him on the couch.

“It’s ‘cuz you are,” Yunho promptly answers despite being far away when he said that.

“Damn you and your super hearing,” he mutters.

“Hongjoong, what is your motive?” The dog hybrid asks, eyes narrowing in uncharacteristic suspicion. He tenses when the human comes closer. Hongjoong’s heart sinks. San shrinks into the couch, his chin resting on the back.

“Why do you keep collecting us like trading cards? Are you really doing it out of kindness? Or do you plan to sell us when you get the chance?” The fox adds. 

“What? I- no?” Hongjoong’s breath catches and he leans heavily on the railing. “Do you really think that?”

San’s arms wrap protectively around his torso and he looks away. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

“We don’t get it, Hongjoong,” Yunho tries. “I mean, you and I agreed on terms for me to stay here. But then you let San in. And while I’m not entirely okay with that yet, it’s easier than two completely new strangers.” He punctuates his sentence with a flung arm directed upstairs.

Hongjoong flinches at the motion, crossing his arms. “I swear, I don’t have an ulterior motive. I just-” He sighs heavily, running a fidgety hand through blue strands. “I can’t ignore someone in need. Especially if I can help it.”

“Do you pity us? Do you have some sort of savior complex?”

“No!” He yells, astounded.

“Then why exactly?”

Hongjoong bites down hard on his bottom lip, sinking down onto the first few steps of the stairs. Yunho stares, pleading, remaining a few paces away. 

“Listen,” he starts, taking in a deep breath. “I’m not quite sure myself, okay?”

San’s mouth opens but Hongjoong holds up a hand.

“I’ve been alone for a long time. I’ve spent a lot of nights wondering what to do with my life.” He pauses, gathering his thoughts. “I felt like something was missing, and then I met Yunho. Growing up, my parents always taught me to help others in need. Even though we agreed on a temporary living situation, helping Yunho has been one of the best decisions of my life. And San, even though you don’t stay here, I get happy when you come by, so I know that wasn’t a wrong decision, either. So… I guess I want to help those guys, too,” he admits. “They were kicked to the side of the road, in the rain, by their previous owners. I don’t expect them to stay at all.”

They’re quiet for a minute, mulling over Hongjoong’s words. Honestly, he’s surprised; he didn’t think he could explain his own feelings and actions to himself. He gnaws at his lip while the rain continues to pound outside, filtering in through the silence.

“Okay,” Yunho says softly. His eyes are fixed on the floorboards, swimming with guilt. “I’m sorry for assuming badly of you.” He holds his arms out tentatively, an open invite. Hongjoong gives a shaky smile, standing up and walking into the taller’s embrace, burying his face in his shoulder.

“I’m sorry too. I could’ve communicated better so this wouldn’t happen,” he says, voice muffled. Yunho’s soft laugh rumbles in his chest. He rubs his cheek on the top of the human’s head, ruffling his colored hair. Hongjoong peeks over his shoulder, making eye contact with San. Wordlessly, he holds his arm out, and the fox hybrid crowds in, gingerly joining their hug.

“Now,” Hongjoong starts, reluctantly pulling away after a few minutes and wiping under his eye, “Shall we have dinner?”

* * *

  
  


Hongjoong knocks on the door to the spare bedroom, carefully balancing a plate with one hand. When he hears a quiet “come in,” he prods open the door, the hinges squeaking. His two guests have made themselves somewhat comfortable, the sheets on the bed more wrinkled where they sit. It’s been a couple hours and Hongjoong is ready to throw in the towel, already showered and changed into his pajamas. It’s still early in the night, but the life of a farmer does not match the life of a night owl. The human sets down the dinner plate on the dresser, facing the two who become wary again in his presence.

“What’s that?” Wooyoung asks, still the spokesperson between them. Hongjoong glances at the arrangement of reheated ham and scalloped potatoes.

“Dinner.” He grins. “I insist.”

Wooyoung’s mouth thins, but he nods. “Thank you, I guess.”

“I came to tell you that I’m going to sleep soon. Yunho will be with me, so you don’t need to worry about stealing anyone’s bed. Although, I do have to warn you: if you try to do anything in the night, Yunho will hear you and wake me up.”

“We won’t leave this room,” Wooyoung promises.

“Uh, right. Well then, good night,” Hongjoong mutters, already inching towards the exit.

“Wait,” a new voice chimes. Hongjoong and Wooyoung’s heads both snap to Yeosang, who shrinks under their attention, his ears flattening. “I overheard your… conversation before.”

Hongjoong freezes, a thousand thoughts crashing in his mind.

“Uh, what exactly did you hear?” He settles on, shaking the anxiety out of his head and coughing.

“I heard enough,” he clips. The sheets bunch under his fingers as he avoids Hongjoong’s stare. “I’m sorry. If you need us to, we will leave.”

“Yeosang—!”

“Thank you for your consideration, but there’s no need. Please, I can’t just go back on my hospitality like that,” Hongjoong interrupts, ducking his head. Wooyoung glares a warning but Yeosang ignores him, sliding off the bed and creeping towards the plate. 

“Have you guys figured out what you’re going to do yet?” Hongjoong asks, lingering in the doorframe. Yeosang gives him a wide berth as he reaches the food, poking at the ham slices.

“No, not yet. But we won’t stay more than a day, I promise.” Wooyoung speaks up when Yeosang doesn’t answer. His pointed ears slant back, his body locked with tension as he eyes the distance between the human and his friend.

“That’s alright,” Hongjoong reassures, coughing a little. “We can talk more in the morning. Good night.”

“Good night,” Yeosang mumbles, mouth full of ham. Wooyoung’s eyes track Hongjoong as he backs out, cracking the door behind him again.

The human lets out a level breath, calming the nerves that restricted his lungs at Yeosang’s revelation. He shuffles down the small hallway, flicking off the lights as he descends the stairs.

San and Yunho sit together on the couch, watching a random drama on Hongjoong’s laptop. He’d given it to distract them while he checked on Wooyoung and Yeosang. Of course, he made sure all other tabs and shopping escapades were closed out before he handed it over. Yunho, now familiar with the device, had easily opened a streaming service and eagerly shown San. 

“I’m going to bed, guys,” he announces. “San, you’re more than welcome to stay for the night. You can just take the couch. Please?”

San squints in thought, hands scrunching the plush green blanket draped over his and Yunho’s laps. The other pauses the video, turning his puppy eyes on the fox hybrid.

“Okay,” he sighs, reaching over and tapping the spacebar. Hongjoong smirks at the slight blush on San’s face as he focuses way too much on the screen. Yunho gives the human an unsubtle thumbs up and he chuckles.

“Good night. Please don’t stay up too late.”

They wave without looking, absorbed in their drama. He smiles softly at the sight. San reaches up to pull down his hood, letting dark wide ears pop out. He runs fingers through his greasy messy hair, gingerly resting his head on Yunho’s shoulder. Hongjoong stifles a laugh as Yunho’s floppy ears perk up significantly; if the boy wasn’t sitting on it, Hongjoong is sure his tail would be wagging like crazy.

He tiptoes back upstairs, falling into his bed. As an afterthought, he gropes for the lamp, switching it off and basking in the darkness. He’s exhausted, yet again, from another hybrid encounter. He shivers a little, the temperature just cool enough that he pulls the sheets high over his body. Almost instantly, he falls asleep.

The next morning, he finds both Yunho and San at the end of his bed, curled together under the dark blue crocheted blanket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We love communication in Hongjoong's household.
> 
> Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!
> 
> Also thank you to my lovely betas, aka my roommate that never reads fanfiction and my friend, poe_tate_toe
> 
> If you like bnha fics, I highly suggest checking out her stuff! (poe_tate_toe)


	4. Bear Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the wonderful and supportive comments, they keep me going! Also, thank you for over 100 kudos, I didn’t think this fic would reach so many omg
> 
> I’m sorry for taking so long with this chapter. Classes have been really stressful and I didn’t want to rush this chapter. It’s much longer than I expected, so please enjoy!
> 
> //tw for descriptions of injury and gore. I understand some may be uncomfortable, but it is essential to the story//

_ I always wanted you to take care of me _

_ The moment I’m alone, it’s hard for me _

_ When the memories that kept my side of me collapsed one by one, _

_ I thought everything around me was going to disappear _

_ -“My Way” _

  
  


October is perhaps Hongjoong’s favorite month of the year. The fields are fallow and the trees are varying shades of orange and brown. Brisk wind dances across the flat landscape, sneaking into the cracks of the house. The sun retires earlier in the evening. Hunting season is in full swing, and the fridge is stocked with food. The fireplace in his living room finally is used, stocked with firewood. He can bust out his collection of sweaters, reluctantly sharing the oversized ones.

A lot has happened in the past few days, changing his life as fast as the leaves changed on the trees.

Wooyoung and Yeosang broke their promise of staying one night. Granted, Hongjoong persuaded them to. The morning after he took them in, he woke bright and early. The sun isn’t up yet. He finds San and Yunho together at the end of his bed, underneath swaths of blankets. He couldn’t help the growing fond smile on his face as he tiptoes around them. The mound stirs when the floorboards creak under his feet and he quickly dashes out of his room before the two can truly wake up.

Being the only one up and active leaves for free time and a faux sense of being alone. As much as Hongjoong appreciates his current company, he’s used to having an entire house to himself. The kitchen sits in the early morning gloom of mid-fall, comfortably dark and blue. He starts his pot of coffee, as usual. The only light in the kitchen comes from the red blinking power button of the coffee pot and the digital clock on the stove. He closes his eyes, breathing in the aroma deeply and leaning on the counter with his elbows. He spends the next few minutes in serenity, waiting patiently for his morning fix.

When it’s ready, he pours into a chipped mug and pads out the kitchen and into the living room. He grabs his phone off its charging port on the way. The weather is much too cold to bother sitting out on the porch, so he makes do with the couch. As he settles down, he prematurely sips at his steaming coffee, accidentally burning his lips. With a silent jerk, he sets the cup down on the table, rubbing at his sore mouth. Sighing, Hongjoong falls back on the cushions, snuggling in sideways and tucking his feet under himself. He opts to open a social app on his phone, mindlessly scrolling through what his old peers in high school and college posted. He gets bored after a few minutes, letting his wrist fall and head roll back on the throw pillow. He allows his eyes to rest, zoning out for a few seconds or minutes.

The next thing he knows, he’s fallen asleep. When he wakes again a short while later, it’s to a quiet commotion. The creak of the stairs combined with the lighter room rouses him from his light nap. The sun had barely come up, blinding as the bare trees outside the window provided no shade. Hongjoong squints, closing his eyes against the glare and shifting away. What he discerns as footsteps halt for a second and Hongjoong frowns, going slack.

“Is he asleep?” The somewhat familiar voice sounds out, a whisper that if not for the stillness of the house, Hongjoong is sure he would not hear it. He focuses on keeping his breaths even as he’s being checked on by the mysterious company.

“I think so,” another voice confirms, much closer. He can feel the presence of someone hovering over him. “We can go now. Thank you, Hongjoong,” he adds as an afterthought. In an instant, the human understands his situation. The louder person backing away from the couch was Wooyoung, and the other is Yeosang. They are in the midst of leaving without notice. Hongjoong fights to keep his facade of slumber, heartbeat in his throat as he debates whether to stop them or not.

Before he can come to a decision, another voice cuts in, this one drowsy and familiar.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yunho asks.

Hongjoong wishes he could see past the red of his eyelids, but he wisely refrains from looking, listening in on the ensuing conversation instead. 

“The pound,” Wooyoung answers, guard up.

Yunho balks. “Why would you ever want to go there?”

“We‘ve overstayed our welcome,” Yeosang explains, his soft deep voice hard to hear from the couch. “Maybe we’ll find someone more professional and experienced with hybrids to help us.”

Yunho laughs incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding me. The people there don’t know shit.”

Hongjoong reminds himself not to react to the sudden swearing. He bites at the inside of his cheek, wondering when to butt in.

“How would you know? It’s our best bet,” Wooyoung shoots back defensively.

“You… you two don’t have a plan at all,” Yunho realizes.

“So what if we don’t?”

“You don’t get it,” he stresses. “ _ Hongjoong _ is your best bet, not the pound.”

“But you don’t want us here,” Yeosang murmurs.

“I— no,” he sighs, frustrated. “You’re right, I don’t. But I don’t want you two to get into trouble if I can help it. Trust me, you  _ don’t  _ want to end up there.”

“What are we supposed to do then? Stay here?” Wooyoung shouts. Immediate silence follows as if he realizes his volume. Hongjoong holds his breath, feeling the thick tension in the air.

“Yes,” Yunho says after a moment.

“But that’s not up to you, right? It’s up to Hongjoong,” Yeosang speaks up again.

“You’ll have to ask him, but I’m sure he’s already accepted you,” Yunho says, resigned.

“Do we wake him up then?”

That’s his cue. Hongjoong bites his lip, about to give up his position but a presence next to his ear prematurely shocks him out of it.

“Oh, he’s awake. Probably has been for a while.”

“Oh fuck—” Hongjoong curses, eyes flying open as his whole body jumps. San stares innocently up at him from his kneeling spot next to the couch. “When did you get there?”

“I’ve been watching you for a few minutes,” the fox informs with a cheeky smile and perked ears. He leans back as Hongjoong sits up. The human rubs at his tired eyes, twisting his torso to peer at the others over the back of the couch.

“Yes, I heard everything,” he admits. Yunho doesn’t look surprised while the other two appear scandalized.

They’re wearing the same wrinkled clothes as the night before, haggard in both appearance and stance. They huddle together, Wooyoung standing slightly in front of Yeosang protectively. His eyes catch on their intertwined hands.

He sighs, reaching to the low table and picking up his now-cold coffee. He takes a few unhappy sips before continuing.

“Like Yunho said, you’re welcome to stay. On a few terms.”

Wooyoung frowns, his free hand bunching up the striped fabric of his shirt. “What terms?”

“Yunho doesn’t stay here for free. He has to help me around the farm. In exchange, he gets food and shelter. I can offer the same to you. After all, I always need more helping hands.”

“What about San?” Yeosang pipes up, peeking over Wooyoung’s shoulder.

Hongjoong glances at the mentioned boy, who avoids eye contact but hasn’t moved away from him. “Well, he comes and goes. He doesn’t usually stay.”

San scratches behind his exposed ears. Hongjoong feels a sliver of excitement as he realizes how comfortable San has become around him. But back to the matter at hand.

“Uh, so,” he continues, fiddling with the blue strands of his bangs. “It’s your choice. Will you join us?”

Wooyoung and Yeosang look at each other. Another silent conversation ensues between them, lasting a few seconds. Eventually, they both look at him and nod.

“Okay. We’ll stick with you, but only because Yunho swears you’re our best bet,” Wooyoung affirms. Hongjoong can’t help the glad smile that breaks across his face.

“Thank goodness.” He rises from the couch, taking his full mug with him. “I’m hungry. Let’s have breakfast. We can talk more then.”

He breezes past all the hybrids, moving into the open kitchen. Despite the rising sun, he still needs to turn the light on over the stove as he prepares the usual eggs.

“Sannie, are you going to be eating with us?” He asks while rummaging through the cupboards.

“Um. I guess I can,” comes the delayed response; the other thought it over quite a bit.

“Great. All of you can sit at the table while you wait,” he says cheerfully, pulling a carton of eggs out. “Oh, and if you’d like coffee, I have a pot made still.”

“Don’t do it,” Yunho warns, sitting at his designated spot. “That stuff’s nasty.”

“What’s it taste like?” San asks, sliding into the chair next to him.

“It’s really bitter. Like dirt.” Hongjoong sees the two of them make faces at the idea and he stifles a snort.

“Yeosang likes bitter things,” Wooyoung blurts. All eyes go to him and he shies away, still near the front entrance with Yeosang, who glares daggers at his friend.

“Is that so? Yeosang, would you like to try?” Hongjoong asks softly, gesturing to the coffee pot. “If not, I can make tea.”

“Please do! Can I have chai again?” Yunho asks, tail wagging in anticipation. San is intrigued, glancing between Yunho and Hongjoong.

The human giggles. “Alright, I’ll make some tea as well. Please, sit down.”

He directs the last part to the two still standing as he pulls out the tea kettle. They slowly slink over, occupying the last two open chairs opposite of San and Yunho.

The next few minutes are awkward as Yeosang, Wooyoung, and San sit silently while Yunho attempts to have a conversation with himself. Hongjoong is too busy making breakfast for five people to engage with the poor puppy.

“Oh, you guys haven’t said what kind of hybrids you are,” Yunho realizes at one point. Hongjoong pauses in flipping an egg, also curious about his new friends.

“I’m a dog. A golden retriever. San’s a fox… you don’t have to tell us, I guess,” Yunho adds.

“I’m also a dog,” Wooyoung admits. “I’m a purebred corgi of some kind. I don’t really know.”

Yunho’s eyes light up at the knowledge of another dog. “So that’s why I can’t see a tail.”

“Yeah. It’s small but it makes it easy to fit in clothes and stuff,” Wooyoung laughs nervously. His grey eyes shift to Yeosang, who fidgets in his seat.

“I’m a cat.” He gestures to his spotted face and delicate ears. “A calico. Apparently, I’m really rare.”

Hongjoong frowns at the extra tidbit of information. If Wooyoung and Yeosang were such rare and fancy breeds, why did they end up on the side of the road?

He’s not the only one with that train of thought.

“Why did your owner ditch you then…?” Yunho mumbles, clearly trying to keep his thoughts to himself. Both of them tense, but they don’t seem surprised.

“Yeosang… did some stuff to piss off our owner. He was threatened to be kicked out and I wasn’t going to let him be alone, so I went with him,” Wooyoung explains, black ears laid back.

“What kind of stuff—“

“Okay, breakfast is ready!” Hongjoong interrupts, sending Yunho a warning look. Yeosang gives him a grateful glance, still fiddling with his fingers.

Hongjoong takes a few trips to set out all the plates, arranging each of them to have eggs and an apple on the side.

“They’re in season,” he explains, noticing San poking at the fruit. The tea kettle whistles just in time, scaring all four hybrids. The human mutters apologies as he pours four mugs with chai tea bags. He re-heats his own mug of coffee in the microwave. After a second thought, he pulls another mug out (thank goodness for his mother’s collection of ceramics) and fills that one with more coffee.

When they’re all situated, Hongjoong stands at one end of the wooden table, all other chairs taken. He slides the extra mug of coffee next to Yeosang’s tea before starting to eat standing up.

“Hongjoong! You don’t have to stand there, let me—“ Yunho protests, already shuffling out of his chair. The human waves a hand, nonverbally pushing him back into his spot.

“I don’t mind. There’s extra chairs in the basement, I’ll bring them up sometime today.” The boy pouts, obediently staying and picking up his fork.

Hongjoong munches at his apple, resting his weight on one foot as he surveys the others. Wooyoung and Yeosang, careful and deliberate in their actions, are no strangers to cutlery and silverware. His brow furrows as he wonders what kind of background they have.

“Is this for me?” Yeosang timidly asks, bringing Hongjoong out of his thoughts. He’s pointing at the coffee that sits untouched next to his barely touched tea.

He hums in acknowledgment. “Wooyoung did say you like bitter things. I made enough for you to try. Don’t worry, if you don’t like it, I won’t hold it against you.”

Emboldened by his reassurance, Yeosang gingerly picks up the mug, bringing it to his nose and breathing deeply. 

He takes a tentative sip, mulling it over with a blank expression. His white ears perk up and his eyes brighten after a moment. Hongjoong smiles.

“Do you like it?”

The calico nods, hands wrapped around the warm ceramic as he sips more of the drink. Wooyoung squints at him, making sudden grabby hands for the coffee.

“I wanna try!” He declares, snatching it out of Yeosang’s grip. He ignores both Hongjoong and Yunho’s warnings, going for a large gulp. Immediately he’s coughing, slapping a hand over his mouth. 

Yeosang levels a smooth glare at him, pulling the mug back to him. He coolly finishes the coffee while Wooyoung hacks away next to him, sticking his tongue out dramatically.

“Fuck, that’s disgusting! How could you like that?!” He cries, sloppily picking up his tea and downing it. “Ugh! I can’t get it out of my mouth!”

“I told you!” Yunho whines. Hongjoong can’t help but laugh, clutching at his side and leaning heavily on the table.

“Gosh, that was hilarious,” he sighs, sobering some. San quietly giggles into his hand.

The rest of the meal is light-hearted. Small conversation is made between them as they finish their plates. San thanks him for the hospitality, disappearing out the front door for the day. He cleans up their dishes as the rest keep talking. Eventually, Hongjoong returns to the table with a fresh cup of coffee. He spends the next hour or so describing the same terms he gave to Yunho, answering their questions as best he can.

“Where will we sleep?” Wooyoung presses.

“In the spare bedroom is fine.”

The dog hybrid’s gaze slides to Yunho, whose jiggling knees signal his impatience.

“How come he gets to sleep with you?”

Hongjoong chokes, not expecting that. Yunho’s head tilts cutely.

“Uh, because he wanted to?”

“Do we really just help you around the house and stuff? That’s it?” Wooyoung asks, switching questions like lightning. Yeosang stares longingly at Hongjoong’s coffee.

“Yes. You will be more than helpful here, I’m sure of it,” Hongjoong says, repressing a sigh. He wordlessly slides his half-finished drink to the cat hybrid, whose face lights up adorably.

“You promise?” He demands. Hongjoong laughs under his breath at his insistence. He holds out a small pinky across the table, glancing between the two who still watch him with wary eyes. 

“I promise.”

Wooyoung’s timid pinky wraps around his, sealing the deal. After a moment, Yeosang reaches over and wiggles his finger in, too.

And for the first time, Hongjoong sees a smile bloom on their faces.

  
  


* * *

  
  


A package arrives at Hongjoong’s doorstep a week later. He completely forgot about it until Wooyoung screeched at him from across the yard. The human ceases in his maintenance of the chicken coop, ambling to the entrance and leaning against the barn door. Wooyoung bounds across the gravel, face lit with excitement as he hoists a large cardboard box.

The two assimilated surprisingly well, watching Hongjoong and Yunho do their work like hawks. They never complained and never asked for more help. Slowly, they opened up more with each passing day, and Hongjoong gets a glimpse of their true personalities behind the lowered guard.

Wooyoung is rambunctious. He leaps from place to place, unable to sit still and providing free entertainment. Once he realized Hongjoong wouldn’t scold him, he became unapologetically loud. Despite this, he’s a hard worker and doesn’t hesitate to come back to Hongjoong and ask to do more.

Yeosang is completely opposite. Unlike his canine friend, he remains reserved and quiet, choosing instead to linger in the corner of Hongjoong’s eye. He never strays far from the others, always in the same room. He finishes all his chores in calculated silence.

At first, Hongjoong couldn’t fathom how the two were friends, but now he sees why. They are like two sides of the same coin, a relationship that ascends words. Wooyoung is boisterous, defending and speaking for Yeosang. Yeosang tamps down Wooyoung’s excitement, mellowing out his sharp edges. Together they function in ways that Hongjoong has never seen.

Hongjoong blinks back to the present, grinning at the corgi as he approaches.

“You got a delivery,” Wooyoung announces. Hongjoong can’t see it, but he thinks the other’s tail is wagging underneath his clothes.

“I can see that,” he chuckles, dusting off his knees. He shivers as the chilly autumn air drifts into the barn. “Want to go in the house and open it?”

Wooyoung bounces on his feet, wasting no time following the human across the yard and up the porch. Hongjoong props the door open for him and the boy squeezes past, dumping the large box onto the kitchen table. Yeosang peeks from the doorway of the laundry room, curious. He abandons his post of loading up the washing machine, slinking into the kitchen. Yunho is somewhere in the fields, gradually planting the last of their winter crop.

“What is it?” Yeosang asks, his pale eyes riveted to the cardboard. Hongjoong fishes out a pocket knife from a drawer, cutting through the tape.

“Clothes,” he answers, Wooyoung’s excitement infecting him as well. Yeosang hums, absently tugging at the hem of his borrowed sweater. Unlike Yunho, who barely fits in Hongjoong’s oversized clothes, the two match Hongjoong closely. He’s resorted to wearing his fashionable clothes and giving everything comfortable to them.

“Are they for you?” Wooyoung asks, digging his fingers into the gap and prying open the cardboard.

“No, actually,” he admits, smiling at their surprise. 

“You didn’t…” Wooyoung trails off as he pulls out plastic bags full of plain colored shirts. Yeosang joins in, picking out some hoodies.

“They were originally for Yunho and San, but I figure you guys would need some, too.”

“Can we?” Wooyoung holds up the unopened bags. Hongjoong nods and he rips it open, spilling the garments over the tabletop. 

“Some of these are for San, so don’t take them,” he says, pushing a black tank top, hoodie, and a hat out of the way. The two empty the contents of the box, spreading them out on the floor. Once they get to the bottom, Yeosang freezes. He reaches in, lifting out a small bag. Something long and thin is wrapped within, and Hongjoong’s heart sinks in realization.

The collars.

He completely forgot he bought them. To be honest, he repressed the memory as soon as he confirmed the purchase, clearing his history and closing the laptop. But now it’s suspended between Yeosang’s shaking fingers, and oh fuck. This is bad.

Wooyoung whirls on him, anger and disbelief apparent on his face. He rounds the table, standing protectively next to his friend. Yeosang drops the small bag as if it burns him, his delicate ears laid flat in apprehension. 

“I can explain,” Hongjoong yelps, putting his hands up. They narrow their eyes but stay still, letting him speak.

“This is not what it looks like, I swear,” he emphasizes. “It’s a fail-safe.”

Yeosang’s hand unconsciously rubs at his neck. The two abandoned their own the day they decided to stay, but instead of throwing it in the trash, Hongjoong has seen it sit untouched on the dresser in the spare room.

“I don’t like the idea, either. But I want you guys to be safe.”

“Weren’t we already?” Wooyoung asks, his voice cracking. 

“In theory.” Hongjoong tries to keep his own voice from wobbling. “I promise, as long as you guys stay here and I am around, nothing should happen.”

“But…?”

“But I’m not alone around here. This isn’t some utopia separate from the rest of the world. People come by and they’re not always tolerant. I don’t know where you guys were previously, but in rural areas, people are less accepting. I don’t want you to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

He picks up the bag, shaking the contents out into his palm.

“I also don’t want to have something happen, and I have no choice but to take you to a hospital or something. Because you being undocumented hybrids means I can’t protect you legally. This–” he shakes the incriminating fabric “–is a slight chance for me to keep you all from ending up somewhere horrible.”

He drops the collar onto the table, sighing heavily.

“You don’t have to wear it. It’s just there if we run into someone.” Hongjoong looks sharply between them. “And if we  _ do _ run into someone,  _ please _ let me do the talking.”

Wooyoung gnaws at the inside of his cheek, contemplating Hongjoong’s words. 

“Okay,” Yeosang mutters after a heavy moment. “I believe you.”

The human exhales shakily. He separates the collars from the pile of clothes, tossing them into the drawer along with the pocket knife. He bought two, so if he counts Yeosang’s and Wooyoung’s discarded ones, he has just enough.

“Okay,” he huffs, trying to improve the mood. “Yeosang can you add these to the laundry?”

The cat hovers, glancing between the human and his friend and wordlessly gathering the shirts and pants into his arms. Wooyoung goes to help him, deciding their conversation is over. 

Hongjoong nods to himself, tapping his fingers on the kitchen counter. He decides to get back to work, heading out the front door.

Yunho waits for him at the bottom of the porch, his brown eyes staring almost through him. His clothes are dirtied from the fields and there’s a smear of mud on his cheek. Hongjoong jumps, another swing of emotions wracking his body as he calculates what to tell Yunho.

“How much did you hear?” He settles on, fiddling with his own fingers.

Yunho sighs, crossing his arms. “I came in just as you started explaining. Don’t worry, I trust you.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widen. He didn’t expect that. “Y-you do?”

Yunho huffs a laugh, scratching behind an ear. “Of course. I mean, I was scared at first, but I get what you mean. Back at the pound…”

He hesitates, a faraway look entering his face as he recalls unpleasant memories.

“At the pound, hybrids would come in without identification. They were never able to leave on their own, no matter how much they begged or insisted on an owner.” Yunho shivers. “I don’t want that to happen to me, or to them, or even to San. Especially after meeting you.”

Hongjoong rubs at the spot on his chest that suddenly hurts. He searches for what to say, but Yunho beats him to it, smoothing over his worry.

“The fieldwork is done, by the way.”

The human sighs in relief, glad that their heavy conversation is over. Back to business. Yunho turns to leave, but Hongjoong calls out one more time.

“Hey, I never got to say this, but,” he laughs a little, running a hand through the back of his hair. “I’m really proud of you. Thank you for convincing them to stay, even if you didn’t want them to.”

Yunho ducks his head, a furious blush blooming across his cheeks.

“It was the least I could do,” he mutters. The dog hybrid skips away and Hongjoong grins, stepping down the porch and back to the barn.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Halloween approaches before Hongjoong has time to think about it. It’s his favorite holiday, and yet the days tend to blend together. The weather grows colder day by day and winter chill starts to creep into the house. That evening, he persuaded the others to take a break and celebrate with him. While they didn’t have any costumes, Hongjoong did have other activities planned. He had some pumpkins in his garden to carve and he also saved some recipes on caramel apples. It could be a nice bonding experience for his residents, and San, if he stopped by.

The wild fox hasn’t been around lately, which worried Hongjoong. Neither head nor tail has been spotted since he left the morning Yeosang and Wooyoung stayed. His new clothes lay clean, folded, and untouched by the laundry room door. He asks Yunho if he had heard anything in the night, but the other shrugs. Hongjoong hopes he hasn’t gotten into any trouble, and always looks out the window when he wakes up in the morning. Perhaps he’ll come tonight, to join them in their small party.

There was an attempt to decorate by the human. Little tissue paper ghosts hung on strings taped to the ceiling. Orange and black ribbon wrapped around the railing of the stairs. His scented candles were always lit in the evening, filling the house with the smells of smoky woods or pumpkin spice. He had to refrain from the apple one after receiving many complaints the first night that the scent hurt the hybrids’ noses. Something about the synthetic sourness made their eyes water. The fireplace was also used more often, the cozy warmth drawing all of them to camp in the living room sometimes.

The fire was going tonight as well, Hongjoong checking the flames and chucking another log in. He had some Halloween playlist going on his portable speaker in the kitchen, the tinny evil laughter keeping the Halloween spirit alive. Hongjoong laughs to himself, basically skipping into the kitchen as he looks over the recipe for caramel apples. Yeosang is not as amused, a tiny knife held in his hand as he stabs a small pumpkin.

“That is so annoying,” he whines, giving the human his cutest stare. “Can you  _ please _ change it?”

“What? It’s fun, though,” Wooyoung opposes, bouncing in his chair next to him as he scoops out pumpkin gunk with his bare hands. Some seeds fall onto the newspaper that covers the kitchen table. Yunho nudges the bowl of seeds closer to Wooyoung’s hands. Hongjoong snorts but obliges, skipping the current corny song.

“Aww,” Wooyoung groans while Yeosang preens. He goes back to stabbing his pumpkin, the only one completely clean. Hongjoong used it to teach the others how to carve and Yeosang decided he didn’t want to do any dirty work. Wooyoung is still cleaning his while Yunho has just finished drawing on his stencil. Hongjoong circles the table, which now has two extra chairs, and peers over Yunho’s shoulder.

“Nice design,” he remarks, and Yunho beams. Hongjoong ruffles his hair, petting behind his soft ears as he studies the pumpkin. The dog hybrid went for the classic triangle eyes, but the smiling mouth was full of stitches. Yeosang’s was much cuter, complete with a little carved body and flower coming out of its head.

“It’s Hehetmon,” the boy explains as if Hongjoong is supposed to know. The human hums, lifting a hand and mindlessly petting his white hair. The other freezes and Hongjoong realizes what he did, but before he pulls away, Yeosang continues as if nothing is wrong. Wooyoung silently watches them but doesn’t remark.

Hongjoong clears his throat, breezing past the moment and moving over to the other side of the table.

“Are you going to make one?” Wooyoung asks, craning his neck to talk as Hongjoong glances over his progress.

“Maybe. I want to make some food, first.”

“Come on,” Wooyoung pleads, scooting his chair over a little. “At least help me?”

“All right.” Hongjoong rolls his eyes. He grabs the open chair next to him, pulling it out. Wooyoung grins. “So what kind of design were you thinking of—“

Before he can sit down or even finish his sentence, a loud  _ bang _ ricochets through the air.

Immediately, all four of them are on their feet, scared out of their minds.

“What the fuck was that?” Wooyoung hisses, his black ears laid back in alarm. Yunho locks eyes with Hongjoong, a sneaking suspicion crossing both of their faces.

“It came from outside,” Yunho informs. They wait for a few tense moments, the happy music of Hongjoong’s speaker contrasting with the heavy mood. Hongjoong opens his mouth again—

_ Bang! Bang! _

More loud sounds. Dread pools in Hongjoong’s gut. Those are  _ gunshots _ .

It’s most likely his neighbors, he tries to reason with himself. They sometimes shoot at animals to warn them off or kill pesky coyotes. They also like to use beer cans as targets in the fields. He prays it’s the latter. After all, what could they possibly be shooting at tonight? 

The dread turns into icy fear.

_ San _ .

“Whatever you do, do  _ not  _ leave this yard,” Hongjoong orders. “Fuck it, don’t even leave the  _ house _ .”

Yunho follows Hongjoong as he flies to the front door and wrestles on his boots and coat.

“What are you going to do?” The dog hybrid demands, his rushed words making Hongjoong pause.

“I’m just going to check the perimeter. I’ll be right back, I promise,” he reassures.

The last thing he sees before wrenching open the front door is his friend’s frightened face framed by the warm yellow light of his kitchen. 

Hongjoong rushes down the steps, coughing at the sudden influx of cold air. He activates the flashlight on his phone, waving it to the ground. His movements are caught by his barn’s motion sensors and the yard floods with cold white light.

The human stumbles over to the side where he knows his neighbors are. Subconsciously, he feels the eyes of the hybrids boring into his back from the house. He squints into the shadows. Unfortunately, in the night, he can’t see further than a few feet into the fields. The desaturated horizon is barely discernible in the distance; how is he supposed to see anything?!

“San?” He calls out, feeling very stupid. The chill creeping underneath his open coat is not just from the late autumn wind. Worst-case scenarios run through his mind again and again. He has to remind himself to stay sane and focus on the task at hand, scanning the flat expanse before him.

“San!” He tries again, cupping his hands around his mouth. His breaths puff up in his face. Just as he’s given up, movement catches his attention. Was that his mind playing tricks on him? He pulls at his hair in frustration, waving his phone flashlight.

Something blinks in the night.

“Hongjoong!”

The human gasps in relief. San’s voice carries in desperation, his wild eyes reflecting in the light. His clothes are much more haggard than usual as he stumbles across the uneven dirt.

“San! Thank goodness, are you okay—?!”

“Hongjoong-no… I’m… please,” San cries out breathlessly, collapsing into Hongjoong’s arms. He yelps at the sudden weight, struggling to keep the fox on his feet. Up close, Hongjoong can see dirt smeared on his face and blood caked under the nails that dig into his arms.

“San, are you alright?” Hongjoong asks, ducking his head to try and see his eyes through his bangs. “Please tell me you’re not shot!”

The other violently shakes his head, his ears almost smacking the human in the face. His death grip tightens even more on Hongjoong’s limbs.

“No! I’m not the one who’s hurt. I’m fine! It’s—“

He whips around, glancing between Hongjoong and something still hidden in the dark.

“Are they after you?” Hongjoong tries to piece together San’s rambling.

“No!” San sags in Hongjoong’s arms. “It’s!” He screws his eyes shut as if debating with himself.

“What?!”

“It’s Jongho!” San blurts finally. 

_ Who? _

“Please, you have to help him! He’s the one who got shot!” San leans backward, dragging Hongjoong into the fields. A million thoughts whir through his brain, but Hongjoong resolved to help now, interrogate later.

“Jongho? Where was he shot?” Hongjoong asks as he’s led through the rows of empty earth. San’s tail whips at Hongjoong’s legs as he frantically searches for the mystery person. He almost twists his ankle as they traverse the rough terrain.

“I don’t know. We were just running and we got too close and then there was yelling and suddenly he was on the ground and we barely got away and—“

San whimpers, twisting Hongjoong’s heart. He’s never seen anyone so scared and helpless before.

“Hey,” he tries as softly as he can, “He’ll be okay. We’ll get him and bring him back.”

San abruptly stops and Hongjoong almost barrels into his back, wondering why until he hears a pained groan. He directs his flashlight to the ground and jumps, a yell unwillingly leaving his throat. There, lying half-curled in the dirt is a body. The boy flinches when the light lands on him, and  _ oh no _ . He looks so  _ young _ .

Auburn hair lies limp over a sweaty forehead. His broad frame is curled over in agony around one leg, where dark red stains the skin and drips into the ground. His body shakes with exertion and his eyes are screwed shut. As Hongjoong attempts to get closer, he scrambles back, a warning growl in his throat. He spies two small, rounded ears poking out of the mussed hair.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he starts, keeping his voice level and raising his hands. San falls to his knees, crawling next to Jongho and wedging his hands under his arms.

“Leave me alone,” the boy barks, trying in vain to shake San off. “No!”

“Jongho,  _ please _ , you have to let him help you. Come on,” San hisses. Jongho glares with deep distrust, but his head lolls dangerously.

“I’m not…” he slurs, trying to keep conscious.

“Jongho, he’s the human I told you about,” San stresses, his frantic hands tapping at the boy’s cheeks. “You can trust him. You  _ need _ help.”

The other cries out as San attempts to lift him again and Hongjoong rushes forward, ignoring his half-hearted growls. He nudges San over, pulling Jongho’s arm over his back and gesturing for San to do the same on his other side. Together they lift him, grunting at his heavy weight.

Hongjoong squints in the direction they came, spying the floodlights of his barn. They’re not far into the fields, but it would take a while to transport him with just the two of them without risking further injury. He sighs harshly, starting their trek. It takes a few minutes, but it feels like hours with every labored breath Jongho takes, his head hanging down between them. San’s skittish eyes flicker from him to the human and to the approaching clearing of the yard. By the time they lay his unconscious body in the dry grass, Yunho is rushing down the porch.

“Hongjoong? San? What’s going on? Who’s that?” 

“I thought I told you to stay inside,” Hongjoong scolds, already setting off towards the house. He holds out a hand, silently telling San to stay with his friend. The screen door cracks shut behind him as he bursts into the front room. Wooyoung and Yeosang jump from where they lurk by the window, watching him with fear. Hongjoong doesn’t have time to worry about them as he grabs his keys and some towels. He pauses as he passes the last drawer in the kitchen, yanking it open and grabbing the collars as well.

“W-what are you doing?” Wooyoung tries, snagging the edge of Hongjoong’s coat before he can step out onto the porch again.

The human huffs, trying to form a plan past the jumbled worry clouding his mind. “I have to help San’s friend. He got shot.”

“Shot?!” Wooyoung’s grey eyes are blown wide.

“Yes. I have to take him to the vet. Or the animal hospital. Or the actual fucking hospital. I don’t know,” he says, his hands ripping through his hair.

“Are you going alone?” Wooyoung asks, following him as he rushes to his truck. Hongjoong halts before entering the driver’s side. 

“...No,” he answers, glancing between all of the hybrids. “San will come with, but you should stay here.”

“Let me help,” Wooyoung bursts. Hongjoong and Yeosang both whirl on him, protests spilling from their mouths. “The animal hospital is your best bet. I’ve been there before, and you can’t carry him in alone. I can blend in and help you.”

Hongjoong narrows his eyes, but Wooyoung doesn’t shy away.

“Fine,” he says after a moment. “Go inside. Get a coat and some hats. Get a blanket, too, and wrap it around his leg.”

The two run away while he slams the driver door closed and turns the ignition. He backs the truck as carefully as he can across the gravel, throwing it in park and jumping out. 

San is shaking like a leaf next to Yunho. He’s kneeled next to Jongho’s prone form while Yunho rubs circles in his back.

“I don’t have room in my front seat for him. Help me get him into the bed here,” Hongjoong instructs, already leaning down and snaking his elbows under Jongho’s armpits. He stumbles under the dead weight and Yunho rushes forward, supporting him. San grabs Jongho’s ankles and together they lift him into the bed of the truck. The leftover tarp crinkles loudly in the night. 

“San, you’ll have to stay up there with him, okay? I don’t have room in the passenger seat, so Wooyoung is going to join you.” Hongjoong closes the truck after the fox hybrid climbs up. Yunho grabs the human’s shoulder before he can return to the driver’s side, sending him a confused glare.

“Why not bring me–”

“Because I need you to stay calm and hold the fort,” Hongjoong cuts him off smoothly. “Stay inside and make sure everything is fine. San needs to come because this is his friend and Wooyoung says he knows the hospital. He’s also my moral support. I need you to be Yeosang’s moral support.”

Yunho stands there, mouth agape and conflicted. Wooyoung flies over, a heavy coat over his shoulders and more in his hands. He throws the coats and a blanket into the bed of the truck, hoisting himself over the ledge immediately after. Yeosang trails behind, gravitating towards Yunho in uncertainty. After ensuring all three hybrids are situated enough, the human clambers into the driver’s seat.

“I’m sorry, Yunho,” Hongjoong says, reaching out and petting the boy’s golden hair. “I promise we’ll be back soon.”

Yunho sighs harshly, reaching up and covering Hongjoong’s hand with his own. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, then gently removes his hand. 

“Come back safe,” Yeosang murmurs, hiding behind Yunho. Hongjoong nods, sending them one last smile before closing the door. They step away from the vehicle as he slowly drives away. Hongjoong watches them return to the house through the rearview mirror as he rolls onto the main road. Before he speeds up, he fumbles behind himself for the rear window and slides it open.

“Let me know if I need to pull over, okay?!” He yells over his shoulder, shivering as the cold autumn wind fills the small space. Wooyoung yells some affirmative back and Hongjoong returns his focus to the road.

The drive is long and arduous. Every minute that passes feels like hours. Hongjoong’s fingers are numb from gripping the wheel so tightly. He wants to speed through the country roads but his precious cargo prevents him from breaking any more traffic laws. Thus he carefully navigates to the nearest animal hospital thirty minutes away. No moon or stars are visible in the sky and the empty fields don’t help the sinking sense of dread tugging at Hongjoong’s frazzled mind.

When they reach town, it feels equally as empty. The time flashing on his dashboard indicates it’s late enough that no one is out. At least, not in the part of town he’s in. The animal hospital’s parking lot has a few sparse cars parked under the streetlights. He navigates to a darkened corner slightly away from the entrance. As soon as he parks, he turns the engine off and jumps out, checking on the others.

Wooyoung and San are huddled together over Jongho’s unconscious form. They’re shivering despite wearing Hongjoong’s heaviest coats. He winces, wishing in that moment that he had anything but a truck just so they could be slightly more comfortable.

“Okay, we’re here. I need you guys to do something,” he whispers, paranoid despite their deserted surroundings. “Wooyoung, you can hide your tail just fine, right? Wear that beanie you brought and put your hood up. You should pass as human then.”

The boy nods, lips pursed as he wrestles a black beanie over his pointed ears. Hongjoong shifts his attention to San, looking him up and down as he tries to come up with a plan. His eyes trail to the white tip of San’s tail, which incessantly flicks up and down.

“Can you hide that somehow? In your pants or…” Hongjoong chews at his bottom lip. “Actually, wrap it around your waist and then cover it with your hoodie. Can you do that? Or is it too uncomfortable?”

“I can manage,” San mumbles, his eyes hard as he slowly lifts the hem around his waist. His fluffy tail is forced under, bunching the fabric slightly as it twitches. San zips up the loaned long coat, effectively hiding everything. 

“Perfect, and then I have this,” Hongjoong reassures, tossing a baseball cap to him. San stares at the cap, letting Wooyoung snatch it out of his hands and mash it over his head. Together they look human and Hongjoong sighs in relief.

A muffled groan directs all of their attention to Jongho, who stirs. A blanket is haphazardly wrapped around his injured leg, staunching some of the blood. The dark liquid is still spreading, staining the tarp bunched underneath.

“That’ll have to do. Hurry, we don’t have much time,” Hongjoong urges, beckoning them to lower Jongho. He grunts as he tries to carry him down, Wooyoung and San jumping off the back and supporting him. They hobble across the parking lot, probably dripping blood onto the pavement as they go. Hongjoong shoulders open the door, stumbling into the waiting room and startling the lone receptionist.

“Sir, are you alright?”

“Please, help me,” Hongjoong interrupts breathlessly, almost crashing into the desk. The woman jumps up, hands hovering as she recovers from the initial shock. 

“What’s wrong?”

“He’s shot, can you please help him?” Hongjoong says, staring with wild eyes. She doesn’t answer right away, gaze flickering between him and Jongho, who hangs between Wooyoung and San.

“He’s my hybrid,” the human adds desperately, struggling to lie on the spot. “He wasn’t wearing his collar and he went outside at night and got shot. Can you  _ please _ help him?”

Finally unfrozen, the receptionist nods her head, hands fumbling for the phone. She clicks a button, speaking into the receiver and relaying the situation. After a second she hangs up and faces Hongjoong.

“The emergency doctor is on his way. Can you please tell me his condition in the meantime?”

Hongjoong forces himself to take a deep breath. “He was shot in his lower leg. I’m not sure where exactly, but he’s lost a lot of blood and I don’t know how severe the wound is.”

“And he is your hybrid?” She asks, scribbling the information down on a clipboard.

Hongjoong pauses. “Yes.”

Her eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. “Do you have documentation?”

“Uh, no. I left it at the house. I wasn’t really thinking,” he tries.

The door to the back area opens and a nurse ushers them through. The receptionist hands the clipboard to her as they hobble down the small hallway into an even smaller exam room. Hongjoong directs the two carrying Jongho to lay him on the table. 

The nurse scans the clipboard and Jongho, frowning.

“Sir I’m going to ask you to fill out this form as best as you can in order for us to take care of him. Sign at the bottom so we have consent to perform surgery.”

Hongjoong bites his lip, taking the offered clipboard and pen with numb fingers. He scans the paper without really taking it in, signing quickly at the bottom and handing it back. 

“There, now can you help him please?” He stresses, his hands grabbing at his own hair. 

“Yes. But I will have to ask you some questions later,” she warns, beckoning outside the door for something. A few other assistants file in with a wheelchair, gingerly lowering Jongho into the padded seat. They prop up his injured leg with the blanket still wrapped around and push him out the room. The nurse leaves with them, closing the door behind her and leaving the three of them in silence.

Hongjoong lets out a breath, sagging against the wall. He traces the cheesy cat and dog wallpaper with one nail as he calms his mind. Wooyoung and San stare up at him, crammed together in the one guest chair.

“Is he going to be okay?” San asks, unable to keep the fear out of his voice. Hongjoong presses the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“Yes, San. He’s going to be okay now.”

Wooyoung glances between them, working his hand into San’s and lacing their fingers. Hongjoong tries to calm his heartbeat, knowing he’s through the worst of it.

The door opens again minutes later, the same nurse as before.

“The doctor has started emergency surgery. He’s lost a lot of blood, but he’ll be fine. It’s looking good,” she reassures. Hongjoong sighs in relief. The nurse moves into the room, resting the clipboard onto the metal table. 

“But we need information to proceed. Mr. Kim Hongjoong, correct?”

He gulps. “Yes.”

“You said this hybrid is under your care? Can we have the name and documentation?” She slides the clipboard across the surface, the plastic skidding against metal.

Hongjoong rereads the document he didn’t fill outside of his name, shakily picking up the pen.

_ Patient Name. Species. Age.  _ Other medical questions.

“We have no online records of you or your hybrid. Is he a recent adoption?”

His mouth is dry.

“Sir, do you have  _ any _ record of adoption?”

He can’t come up with an answer. The black type blurs in his vision. Why can’t he come up with anything? A hand reaches out and delicately taps at his knuckles. He jerks up and sees the nurse’s kind, almost pitying face.

“You don’t have to lie. We won’t deny him care if he is undocumented.”

“But you’ll take him away,” Hongjoong blurts, immediately forgetting himself.

She blinks, surprised. “He will have to go to the pound if he is undocumented or if no one claims him, yes.”

“Can’t I claim him?”

She gives a tight-lipped smile. “Are you his legal owner?”

Hongjoong shakes his head in dismay.

“Then no.”

Silence, except for the muted hum of the automated heater. The nurse reaches over and brings the clipboard back to her. She flips through the pages and brings it to her chest.

“You could adopt him if you wanted.”

Hongjoong stares at her, open-mouthed. “I can do that?”

She shrugs. “If there’s no evidence of previous ownership, then yes. But you’ll have to go through the forms and fees.”

“I’ll do it,” he says, words rushed. “Give me everything right now and I’ll sign it.”

“Woah, woah, hold on,” she stops, holding up a hand. “We don’t know if he has a previous owner yet—“

“He doesn’t.”

Her eyes narrow. “What makes you so sure?”

“My… friends and I heard gunshots. I live in the middle of nowhere surrounded by fields. We went outside to see if something happened and that hybrid came out of nowhere. He looked wild.” Hongjoong swallows. It’s not far from the truth.

The nurse hums. “That is pretty convincing. Are they your friends?” She gestures to the two frozen in the chair.

Heart in his throat, he responds. “Yeah. They were willing to help me carry him here.”

“That’s very kind of you. You guys must be close.”

Wooyoung coughs out a nervous laugh. San avoids her gaze.

“Well, normally I would press further but it is late and you seem very nice. I’m sure you’ll be a great owner for this young hybrid. I’ll get you started on the adoption process right now,” she finishes, offering a sweet smile before disappearing out the door again. Hongjoong somehow feels he just dodged a bullet.

“You’re going to adopt him?” Wooyoung reiterates, expression wary.

“I didn’t really have another choice, did I?” Hongjoong says, not wanting to argue.

“But you didn’t adopt us.”

“They don’t know about you,” Hongjoong hisses. “And I’d like to keep it that way.”

San speaks up for the first time. “It’s better than being alone in the pound. At least we know Hongjoong won’t take advantage of us.”

“Was there no other way?” Wooyoung whines, still not quite grasping the gravity of the situation.

“Without endangering the rest of us further? No, there wasn’t another way,” Hongjoong mutters.

Wooyoung acquiesces, sinking back as much as he can into the chair. San stares blankly off in the distance. Hongjoong wants so badly to be back home and in bed. There it’s warm and cuddly unlike the stark lighting and barely furnished cell of an exam room. Not even the tan wallpaper can make up for the unfriendly medical atmosphere.

After what feels like hours, the nurse enters again with a soft knock. She lays out some papers on the table, gesturing for Hongjoong to fill them out. He skims the new documents, eyes catching on some handwritten information.

“I provided some notes for you. It appears he is a bear species, so we had to consider that in the final adoption fee along with the treatment.”

His stomach sinks at the final page filled with numbers. The nurse catches the poorly hidden dismay on his face.

“I understand that it may be a lot. We still need you to cover the cost of this visit and surgery, but you can still back out on adopting him.”

“Why is it so… much…” he asks, redundant. The pen in his hand catches on his cheek as he runs it through his beyond mussed hair. 

“The adoption fees cover for other medical expenses, like vaccinations.” Her words sound more muffled past the static in his brain. He nods, barely comprehending his own hand filling out the papers. He pauses at the name. Pretending to contemplate, he slowly writes in “Jongho.”

“Are you sure?” She says as his hand hovers over the last signature. Hongjoong signs without a second doubt, pushing the papers together. He all but shoves the stack in the nurse’s face but she smiles, sympathetic.

“Please come to the front desk with me to finalize your payment. Your friends can stay here. It will only take a moment.”

She was right. The payment was a blur, much like everything else in the last hour. He returns to the exam room, now functioning as a waiting room. Time passes as they tiredly wait. It’s almost as agonizing as the trip to the hospital. But Hongjoong reminds himself that everything is fine now. He just has to wait for Jongho and then they can go home.

It hasn’t sunk in, what he’s done. He knows it will, soon, when he isn’t running on fumes and worrying himself half to death. He can deal with the consequences of his actions later when they’re all home and safe. 

Jongho returns in a wheelchair again, this time in a cast and relatively blood-free. He’s still unconscious, but he looks much better. The sweat has been wiped from his face and the dirt caked under his fingernails is gone. His hands are loosely folded in his lap and his head lolls forward.

“I’m sorry. We aren’t as equipped for hybrids like we are for animals so we don’t have a stretcher for him,” the nurse says, wincing.

“It’s fine, as long as he’s fine,” Hongjoong murmurs, resisting the urge to check if the other is even breathing.

“He should be. We can help you bring him to your vehicle—“

“That won’t be necessary. I can push him myself and return the wheelchair,” Hongjoong interrupts. The nurse purses her lips but relents. She holds open the door, letting Hongjoong push Jongho out himself. Wooyoung and San trail behind, giving her a wide berth.

“If you could stop by the counter, we have a copy of your adoption papers for you as well as some medication and instructions.”

Hongjoong does as he’s asked, snatching up the pill bottles and papers. He motions for Wooyoung to take over the wheelchair.

“Thank you so much,” Hongjoong says earnestly. “I mean it. I know I’m acting really ungrateful but thank you for saving him.”

The receptionist glances at him in surprise, craning her neck to the nurse and doctor behind. Despite their weary faces, they have genuine smiles.

“It’s our job. Come by again any time if you have more trouble with him.”

He nods, backing away and ducking his head.

“Have a good night. Or good morning,” he says, finally turning and opening the door. Wooyoung and San squeeze through with Jongho. 

They return to the car, this time lifting Jongho into the passenger seat and buckling him in. Wooyoung and San ride in the back, huddled together again. Hongjoong returns the wheelchair and hurries to the driver’s side. He exits the parking lot much calmer and much later than when he entered.

Jongho does not stir once the whole ride home. Only his steady breathing assures the human that he’s still alive as he drives. The ride back is quiet, with no music to soothe Hongjoong’s inner turmoil. When he enters his driveway again, the lights are still on in the house. Wooyoung and San are shivering again when he parks. They still help him carry Jongho into the house.

Yunho and Yeosang are dozing on the couch when they enter. Immediately they jump out of their light slumber, worried stares hooked on Jongho. Hongjoong beckons them over, setting the papers and new pill bottles on the kitchen counter.

“Listen, we’re fine. Everything's going to be fine now,” he starts, leaving no room for Yunho to cut in. “This is Jongho, San’s friend. He got shot and in order to ensure his full recovery, he is going to be staying here, with us, until then.”

Yunho’s gaze darkens at the news and his tail lashes. “Where will he go? All the rooms are full.”

“The couch works for now. He needs to keep his leg propped anyway,” Hongjoong answers smoothly. Wooyoung and San have already laid the boy down in the living room.

“We can talk more in the morning. Right now I really need to just sleep,” Hongjoong placates, rubbing Yunho’s shoulder. The dog hybrid must see the exhaustion in his eyes because he doesn’t press further. 

Hongjoong rounds the couch, turning the overhead light off and turning on a lamp instead. The fireplace is reduced to embers, barely radiating any heat. In the soft glow, Jongho looks so much younger. His heart breaks at the sight of such a relaxed face compared to the fear and agony he saw earlier in the night. Unwittingly, he brushes the dirty red bangs off of his forehead, brushing the hair with his fingers.

“San,” he whispers, glancing at the fox. “If you could, please stay with him tonight. Yunho can bring one of his blankets down for you.”

The other hums, already settling on the ground with his back to the couch. He tugs the one blanket left in the basket and pulls it over Jongho, careful of his new cast. Hongjoong smiles, patting the cap that still covers San’s head.

“You can take that off now if you want,” he adds before heading to the stairs. He turns off all other lights on the main floor before ascending the stairs to his room. 

“Hongjoong, are you alright?” Yunho asks, hovering behind him as he trudges into his room and flops face-first onto his bed.

“I’m very tired,” he responds, muffled through the comforter.

“You definitely  _ look _ tired…”

Hongjoong rolls onto his back, watching Wooyoung and Yeosang walk into their own room. He doesn’t realize his eyes are closed until Yunho shakes his shoulder gently.

“You can’t fall asleep yet. You still have blood on your clothes.”

The human groans, letting Yunho wrestle him upright. He paws at his shirt, pulling it off in one go. He misses Yunho’s face turning red as he throws articles of clothing in the vague direction of his hamper. 

“Uh, you change into your pajamas. I’ll uh, give some blankets to San. Yes. Please don’t be naked when I come back,” he squeaks, disappearing down the stairs with two blankets trailing after him.

Hongjoong pays him no mind, changing with difficulty as his tired mind operates his clumsy body. He debates brushing his teeth but decides his bed is too comfortable, crawling into his spot and curling up with the light still on. Minutes later, Yunho returns.

“Oh, Hongjoong…” he doesn’t flinch when large hands pet his blue hair. The bedside lamp clicks off and his room switches to darkness, letting Hongjoong drift off. 

He hears Yunho vaguely say something more but he is already gone, drained from the night’s events.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that monster of a chapter (9k words ahhhh)
> 
> Jongho is now in the mix... we're close to the full ensemble of ATEEZ!
> 
> Once again, thank you so much for reading. Comments are more than appreciated and I will respond to all!


End file.
